Chuck vs the Masquerade
by Costas TT
Summary: When a stroke of bad luck brings an intelligence operation to a screeching halt, can a chain of random events bring it back on track? And how does this concern a certain Nerd? What does he have in common with another totally unrelated person and how can the CIA and the NSA use it to advantage? Where does a blonde bombshell fit in all this? All disclaimers apply.
1. Chapter 1

Hello again everyone! I know it's been too long since I last posted a story, but I've been busy enough to not want to even look at a keyboard for non-job related stuff. Plus, I'd started writing another, completely unrelated fic, but wasn't completely satisfied with it, so it was put on ice to be reworked later.

Anyway, this is what you get from me listening to Helloween's eponymous song and remembering old TV shows... I only hope you'll enjoy it. I can promise to update at least once a week.

* * *

The magazine fell onto the plastic tabletop with a resounding slap. However, no one but the person who had just thrown it was in the Buy More employee break room to be annoyed by the sound. Chuck Bartowski, the lanky, curly-haired dean of the Burbank Branch's Nerd Herd, looked at it and then reached for his Chocolate Blast, draining the rest of it and chucking the empty box into the trashcan from ten feet away, without getting up. Accomplishing tasks ranging from something as simple as this to solving crossword puzzles to giving instructions on repairing a rare computer model to another Nerd Herder over the phone without the benefit of schematics or looking at an identical computer helped convince him that his brain had not been permanently impaired by his recent illness.

He stretched in his seat, crossing his legs at the ankles and clasping his hands behind his head before glancing at the wall-mounted clock. Seeing that he still had a few minutes before his break was over, he closed his eyes and tried to relax a bit more.

"Chuck, are you awake?" The voice belonged to his best friend Morgan Grimes, a short bearded young man with a heart of gold and a penchant for mischief.

"I'm awake," Chuck confirmed. "What's up?"

"Word came down from Big Mike about an important service call. He said you should take it, if you feel up to it."

"Let's go. I'm going stir-crazy here."

"Good. I'll drive you."

"Morgan, I can drive, you know."

"You can, but you are not allowed, not yet. Ellie would have my head if I let you. Yours too."

"Well, I don't understand what the fuss is all about."

"Don't give me that crap. You got out of the hospital barely three weeks ago after you almost worked yourself to death. I mean, you are still having blackouts. Chuck, you are a human being, not a computer. You can't just reboot and go on like nothing happened. You have to let your body get its natural rhythm back on its own time."

"Yeah, whatever. Just let me go grab my tools."

"OK. I'll let Big Mike know we're heading out and grab the keys to the Herder."

-o-

Chuck Bartowski had not always been working at the Burbank Buy More. It used to be his summer job during high school and college. After graduating from Stanford University with a degree in electrical engineering, he'd taken up a job first as an independent contractor specializing in software design and then had been offered a position with huge company. Unfortunately, three years after starting there, and advancing rapidly, Roark Instruments had started going downhill due to shoddy management coupled with federal scrutiny on some of their practices. This had increased pressure on the design departments to compensate by coming up with innovative and profitable concepts. Just before the company went belly up, Chuck collapsed due to overwork and exhaustion. The emotional roller coaster from the breakup with his girlfriend, even if it was mutual, didn't exactly help, either. He'd spent two weeks in the hospital and then he was told to go easy on himself until he was back up to 100 percent. This explained his return to the Buy More, which was considered a nice, cushy, undemanding job, i.e. something safe for him while on the road to full recovery.

-o-

The service job took a while to complete, but to someone with Chuck's intimate knowledge of computers it wasn't in the least challenging. Morgan was humming as he drove them back to the Buy More, while Chuck sat in the passenger seat, busying himself by sorting out the paperwork. And then his phone rang.

"Hi Ellie… No, I'm in the car, on the way back from a call… No, Morgan is driving. I don't know what you threatened him with… You didn't have to?" He threw an angry glance in Morgan's direction, who remained completely unperturbed. "As you know, I get off at five," he continued, answering another one of his sister's questions. He listened a little more and let out a frustrated groan. "Ellie, please, not another of Awesome's weird stuff. I can get by with a fruit salad in lieu of those so-called health shakes… Great, thanks, see you later, bye."

"Ellie going all big sister on your sorry ass again?" Morgan asked.

"Big sister slash attending neurologist," Chuck replied. "At least I avoided Devon's concoctions and got a nice cool fruit salad out of the deal."

"Just out of curiosity and because I'm taking cooking lessons, as you already know, what do you put in your fruit salad?"

"Cantaloupe, bananas, cherries, blueberries, raspberries or blackberries, depending on what we have at home, sometimes oranges…" Chuck began.

"Strawberries?"

"If available," Chuck agreed. "And I never forget to add copious amounts of whipped cream. And now that I'm off the meds, I can add some brandy as well should I so wish."

"Sounds yummy."

"It is. I've been experimenting with various fruit combos lately, like using maraschino cherries instead of regular ones. I call it cocktail salad."

"Huh."

"What?"

"You're being a little conservative. Me, I'd also add sprinkles, maybe jelly beans or gummy bears, pieces of cookies or chocolate…"

"OK, got it. I think you're spending a little too much time in the Double O."

"Come on, man, their toppings are heavenly. My dream meal for a working day is getting something from the Wienerlicious for the appetizer and the main course, followed by some nice yogurt from the Orange Orange."

"What about Subway?" Chuck asked.

"That's more of Big Mike's thing, although I'd never say no to a meatball sub."

-o-

Back at the Buy More, Chuck turned in the paperwork from the service call to the Nerd Herd desk and went to the Cage, where he worked for a couple of blissful hours on fixing computers brought in by customers for repair. Morgan made his rounds of the sales floor, helping shoppers whenever required. And then it was time to clock out and go home. Big Mike, the branch manager, had been very accommodating to them, allowing Morgan to have the same schedule as his friend, so that he could drive Chuck to work and home. That day, Chuck wasn't on call, so they just plopped down on the couch in his apartment and read comic books until Ellie and Devon returned from work.

They were in the middle of debating what game to play after dinner when Ellie and Devon walked in.

"Hey guys," Devon said. "How was your day?"

"Dull to completely uninteresting, Captain," Chuck replied. "I only had to go on one service call, as you probably know."

"Ellie said something about Morgan driving you someplace."

"Yep. By the way, when am I going to get the all-clear to drive again?"

"When I'm satisfied you're fine," Ellie said sternly, daring him to challenge her. "And not a second earlier."

"But I feel just fine!"

"You had a blackout a few days ago, and it's going to happen again if you overdo it. Trust me, little brother; it's for your own good."

"Whatever. So, dinner?"

"Let's order from the Bamboo Dragon tonight. I'm too tired to cook and, except for Morgan, I don't trust you guys in the kitchen."

"Babe, now you're just being mean," Devon pouted.

"No, I just have a very highly developed sense of self-preservation," she laughed. "Now go order us some food," she commanded and her boyfriend had no choice but to obey.

-o-

It was a very warm night in DC. The running young man was covered in sweat, his once white shirt soaked almost through and soiled with grime and a bit of blood from a cut just above his hairline. Realizing that he had no chance of making it to the primary extraction point, he focused on first getting the intel through before trying for an alternate. His fingers flew over the PDA he was carrying, even as he ran. He'd memorized the layout of the building, so he could run around inside blindfolded, if necessary. He paused for a second, tucked the electronic device into a pouch on his belt and jumped on the tarmac of the parking lot. The cars would provide some much needed cover while he completed the process. Taking the PDA back out, he entered the recipient's address and pressed send. Simultaneously, a shot rang out and he felt a searing pain in his chest. The impact sent him flying backwards and his ankle also protested his unintentional misstep.

"Fuck," he ground out from between clenched teeth.

"It's over, Larkin," a hulking man in a black suit said, still having a gun pointed at him.

"It is, but you're too late, Casey," the young man called Larkin replied.

"Are you OK?" Casey asked, holstering his weapon.

"I guess so. Damn, this hurts."

"You should have worn a vest," Casey remarked. "Even Simunition rounds can leave a nasty bruise," he said, pointing to the red paint stain on Larkin's chest.

"Naw, my ankle hurts worse. I think I twisted it."

"Then you better go have it checked out," Casey said, extending his hand to help the younger man up. As soon as he had him hobbling on one leg, he spoke into his radio and announced the end of the drill.

A huge black man in a tailored suit and a petite redhead in an Air Force Brigadier General's uniform approached them.

"General, Director," Larkin, who noticed them first, said respectfully.

"Hello Bryce. Major Casey," CIA Director Langston Graham nodded towards the two men. "Good job, both of you."

"I agree," General Diane Beckman said. "You've proven that the security here is good, but can be better."

"The formal debriefing is rather superfluous," Graham decreed. "We saw everything from the control room. Bryce, have the paramedics take a look at you. You'll need to go to the hospital for X-rays. I hope you haven't broken your ankle, because I'd hate to have to put you on extended sick leave."

"Yes sir," Bryce nodded and hobbled off towards the designated first aid station.

"We really have to talk about upgrading security here," Beckman was heard to say to Graham.

"I concur. If one man could break in, even with the tremendous amount of planning he did AND with the access to the building's plans we gave him…" He left the sentence hanging.

-o-

The following day, Langston Graham was in his office at the CIA headquarters in Langley, Virginia, working his way through the files that had accumulated during his brief absence.

"Agent Walker is here, sir," his secretary's voice said over the intercom.

"Send her in," he replied. "Sarah," he greeted the lithe young blue eyed blond woman who'd just entered his sanctum sanctorum. "Welcome back."

"Thank you sir," she replied wearily.

"Two bad ops in a row, well, not one of those failures was your fault, and in fact I've personally put a very special burn notice out on your former team leader."

She nodded, knowing what it meant. It was a 'shoot on sight' burn notice. The bastard deserved it anyway. "Is there a new mission in the works, sir?"

"Not for you, Sarah. I want you to take a few days off. Then we'll talk shop."

For once, she wasn't inclined to argue. "I guess I'll back to being partnered with Bryce, correct?"

"About Bryce…"

"What? Did something happen to him?" She rose alarmed from her seat. Bryce Larkin was not only her partner, but a good friend as well.

"Not really, although he too earned himself some days off. He sprained his ankle yesterday, while participating in a security evaluation."

"That sucks," she commented, sitting back down and straightening her suit jacket. She then noticed something on her boss' desk. "I didn't know Charlie was one of us."

"Who?"

"Charlie, Bryce's college buddy," she explained. "I guess they were recruited together."

"You must be mistaken, Sarah. Bryce was recruited together with Jill Roberts."

"May I?" She reached for a file Graham had just closed.

Curious, he nodded.

She opened it and took out a picture of a man. "This is Charlie. I'm positive. Bryce has a picture of his frat buddies at his place and this is definitely one of them."

"I guess the saying is true then," Graham mused.

"Sir?"

"We all have a doppelganger somewhere on this earth."

"So, I take it this is not Charlie."

"Nope."

"The resemblance is uncanny though."

"I'll take your word for it, Sarah," Graham said affably.

Sarah could practically hear the gears turning in Graham's head, but decided not to give it a second thought, until he spoke again.

"Don't go too far for your vacation. As it turns out I may just need you for a job."

"Right now, all I want is to sleep off all the traveling, sir," she assured him. _And go on a retail therapy spree tomorrow,_ she mentally added. However, she couldn't help but wonder what spy thing her innocent observation had set in motion. She only hoped she wouldn't regret it.

-o-

"Chuck, wake up."

"Nuh-uh. Lemme sleep."

"Charles Irving Bartowski, get your ass out of bed this instant. You are going to be late for work," Ellie began lecturing, but irritation was immediately replaced by concern. "Hold on, how are you feeling?"

"Fine. Day off. Wanna sleep in," Chuck mumbled and turned on his side, pulling the covers up over his head. He was back to snoring away in less than a minute.

Ellie just shook her head and smiled before getting out of her brother's room and closing the door behind her. She had a phone call to make, to one Morgan Guillermo Grimes, in order to remind him that, when he came over, under no circumstances were he and Chuck to play video games. Even though her brother loved them, she knew they could potentially aggravate fatigue and nullify much of the progress he'd made in his recovery.

-o-

Sarah was happy. A very nice pair of boots in a little store she'd found by chance seemed to be calling her name. She threw the bag with the shoebox in the trunk of her car, before remembering that she should probably pay a visit to her partner. Her gaze traveled, following her nostrils, to a bakery next door to the shoe store. Without hesitation, she went in and emerged a few minutes later carrying a box full of delicious cupcakes. They would be her get well present to Bryce.

A short while later, she knocked on his apartment door and waited patiently for him to open.

"Sarah! Hi, come on in," Jill said cheerfully after opening the door.

"Hi Jill. I brought cupcakes." She held up the box.

"Oh, yummy. Much appreciated, thanks."

"I think the patient will appreciate them just as much. How is he, by the way? Graham told me something about him spraining an ankle."

"Humph. You know how guys are. He acts like a little kid sometimes."

"Boys will be boys," Sarah parroted one of Bryce's favorite catch phrases.

"Try having to stay cooped up in your place for days doing nothing," Bryce protested from the living room couch. "It gets old pretty fast."

"I hope the cupcakes I brought will cheer you up, then," Sarah smiled.

"Hand them over." Like a friend of his always said, everybody loves good cupcakes and he was no exception.

"How's your ankle?"

"The doctor said I was damn lucky not to break it."

"Ouch."

"Double ouch," Jill laughed. "He got shot with a simulation round during the exercise, too, and without wearing a vest."

"That must have left a bruise."

"A big one," Jill agreed.

Bryce decided to change the subject. "I heard about the FUBAR in Hungary. Must have been tough."

Sarah's face fell. "Yeah," she mumbled. "Wait, you heard?"

"Hell, everyone's heard. Ryker has a shoot on sight order on his head. Graham must have been really pissed. I asked around. He's OK with agents making a little extra on the side, but murdering innocent civilians for their money, in an allied country no less… It doesn't sit well with the Bossman."

"About that… Guys, you are my friends. So, I want to tell you a couple of things, in case something happens to me."

Jill sat down next to Bryce. "We are all ears."

Sarah proceeded to tell them everything about Budapest and her recent detour to LA before showing up for the debriefing at Langley. Both Bryce and Jill promised to keep the secret and help every way they could.

"Thank you," Sarah said warmly. Having an extra security blanket to fall back on made her feel more comfortable. Then she noticed a framed photo on a shelf and remembered the previous day. "Bryce, there is another thing I need to tell you."

"Go ahead."

"Yesterday, I was in Graham's office for my debriefing. He was going through some files and one of them had a picture of a guy I thought I recognized. You know him pretty well, too."

"Really? Who is he?"

She got up, took the photo from the shelf and handed it over. "He looked just like Charlie," she replied. "But Graham assured me it wasn't him. But he did seem interested for some reason, which makes me think I may have somehow screwed up in there."

Bryce's eyes went wide. He jumped up from the couch and hobbled around on his good leg, since he couldn't pace.

"Dammit, Sarah! You damn right screwed up, although you couldn't have known, so I can't really hold it against you."

"Calm down," Jill tried to reason with him. "We don't know who the guy that looks like Chuck is, so there is no way of knowing if he is of any use to Graham."

"You're right, but we have to consider the worst case scenario here. Fuck, after all we did to keep him out of the Agency's clutches…"

Sarah looked at her friends. "What do you mean?"

He sighed and sat back down. "I'll tell you, but it mustn't leave this room."

She sat down across the coffee table from him. "I'm listening."

"Chuck, Charlie as I've told you, aced a test back in Stanford. He was a straight A student, but this test was different. His scores practically guaranteed him being approached for recruitment by the CIA, for a very specific purpose. Back then there was something called the Omaha Project… don't ask what it was about, it's been in the back burner for years, but still very highly classified."

"Bryce believed that Chuck wasn't cut out for being a spy," Jill picked up from where Bryce had left. "And I agree. He's the definition of Mr. Nice Guy. We couldn't let the CIA destroy him. So, we talked to the professor and convinced him to not report Chuck's score to the Agency. Of course, since he knew Chuck, he agreed with us that he was quite unsuitable for an agent, since he has too much heart for this kind of work. In our business such a character trait might end up getting one killed or worse."

"I see," Sarah nodded. "What do we do now?"

"We wait and see," Bryce replied. "It might be nothing, or it might end up blowing up in our faces, in which case you may want to cover your own behind, Sarah. If Graham finds out about everything we just told you, it won't be pretty."

Just then there was a knock on the door. "Are we expecting anyone?" Jill asked. When Bryce shook his head no, she got up to answer the door. One can imagine her surprise when the visitor turned out to be none other than Langston Graham. Still in shock, she moved aside to let him in.

"Ah, good, the gang is all here," he said, looking at the shocked faces of the three young people. "I need to talk to you about something very important and I believe one of your acquaintances may potentially be of great help to us, Bryce."

"Shit," Bryce muttered under his breath. Sarah was looking timidly at her partner and biting her lower lip in a classic 'oops' expression.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Guys, I was totally blown away by your very heartening response to the beginning of this story. Thanks a bunch for the reviews, favorites and alerts. As promised and on time, here is the second installment.

In the previous chapter, I forgot – inexcusably – to mention another source of inspiration for certain aspects of a story. It's one of my favorite books, Enigma, by Robert Harris. The movie with Dougray Scott and Kate Winslet diverges somewhat from the book's storyline, but keeps to the same premise, so it's not half bad.

* * *

Unaware of the storm brewing all the way across the country, Chuck finally woke up. Yawning, he stretched his long limbs and got out of bed. A quick shower later, he put on a pair of jeans and one of his favorite Call of Duty t-shirts. A glance at the bedside clock told him that it was eleven in the morning. Ellie and Devon would be at work, so the coast was clear.

"Happy hour," he said to himself and grinned evilly. His hopes, however, were dashed when he got to the kitchen. Decaf was the only kind of coffee he could find in the cupboards and any other known or potential hiding place. "Damn," he groused. Ellie was serious about keeping him caffeine-free for the duration of his recovery. At least she didn't forbid him to watch TV, so he turned on the morning news. It was the usual boring stuff, so he randomly channel-surfed, until he found an old TV show he loved. He sat down to watch it with a cup of decaf and a couple of slices of home-made cheese, ham, olive, onion and pepper bread, or, as he'd named it, pizza loaf a la Ellie.

Morgan had been given a key to his best friend's apartment, but he still knocked.

"Who is it?" Chuck yelled from inside.

"It's me!"

"Use your key, dude!"

He did, and entered. "Hey Chuck."

"You know you don't have to knock, right? This is why I gave you the key."

"I know, but it's better to play it safe. After all, you could be, ahem, _entertaining_ someone."

"I wish," Chuck sighed. "Even if I'd bothered to find someone, Ellie would certainly scare her away."

"Don't be too hard on her."

"She won't be doing it on purpose," Chuck explained. "But she'd try to tell her what to do and what to avoid with me, using her no nonsense approach and… you can guess the rest."

Morgan thought about what Chuck had just told him. "You're right."

"I usually am, but it doesn't make it suck any less."

"It sucks majorly, all right. Hey, what are you watching? Are those Matlock reruns?"

"Yep, it's the episode where he dreams of solving a murder in the Old West."

"Ah, season six, episode four," Morgan said without batting an eye. "I always loved this one. But it seems I've missed about half of it."

"Help yourself to some coffee and pizza loaf a la Ellie and make yourself comfortable. The A-Team is on next."

"So, we'll be having an old TV show marathon today?"

"For starters," Chuck confirmed. "Then we can play a little Far Cry."

"You didn't get the memo, did you?"

"What memo?"

"Ellie's no gaming whatsoever decree still stands. She's even keeping all your games locked away ."

"She's such a killjoy," he grumbled.

"No, she just wants you in top shape again soon. And I just happen to agree with her."

"Traitor." For good measure, Chuck threw a cushion at his friend.

"You'll be thanking us later, dude. Now, let's enjoy our oldies."

-o-

Meanwhile, in Bryce's apartment, Graham looked at his three subordinates in turn. "If your expressions are any indication, Sarah here has already told you about Charlie's doppelganger."

All three nodded dumbly.

"Good. Just after Sarah left, I had him checked out quite thoroughly. It wasn't hard to identify Charlie, after all Bryce had one Charles as a roommate in Stanford. I also had a very interesting conversation about Chuck Bartowski with Professor Fleming. You do remember Fleming, don't you Bryce?"

"Yes sir." Bryce was dreading the next part of the conversation.

"He was quite adamant about standing by his decision to side with you and not qualify your friend for recruitment and, frankly, under any other circumstances I would have agreed with him."

"I sense a caveat here," Sarah said.

"Yes. As I said, under other circumstances." He looked again at the three of them. "We have a lot to cover, so is there any chance of a cup of coffee?"

"Sure thing, sir," Jill replied and got up to start a pot.

"Sarah also brought cupcakes," Bryce added.

"Well, I definitely wouldn't say no to one." He waited until he had his coffee and a cupcake in front of him before continuing with the briefing. He took a file from his briefcase and showed Bryce and Jill a photograph.

"Phew. That guy looks like Chuck's lost twin brother," Jill remarked.

"The resemblance is uncanny," Bryce agreed. "I could meet this guy in the street and mistake him for Chuck. Who is he, anyway?"

"His name is Hans Lichtenstein."

"It sounds vaguely familiar," Bryce said.

"Yeah, isn't he that elusive German billionaire playboy who shuns the press?" Sarah added.

"The same," Graham confirmed. "Although he claims that he prefers to keep his privacy, he has a host of other reasons for avoiding the spotlight, namely being involved in several questionable ventures."

"Questionable as in of interest to the CIA?" Sarah ventured.

"The whole alphabet soup, actually," Graham admitted. "We had a joint op with the NSA and liaising with several other agencies, US, allied and international, in order to finally put a stop to his activities, but it all went awry." He paused for effect and straightened an almost invisible crease in his immaculate suit pants. He definitely held the undivided interest of his small audience. "We didn't count on dumb luck and the sometimes unpredictable frailty of the human nature."

"How poetic, Boss," Bryce commented dryly.

"But true," Graham continued. "You see, Lichtenstein was attending a party in Switzerland, when he suddenly collapsed. As it turned out, he'd had a severe allergic reaction to something he ingested."

"Is he dead?" Sarah queried.

"Fortunately for us, no, he's in a coma and currently being treated in a Swiss hospital. Until yesterday, we were resigned to waiting for him to wake up, but now we have an once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."

"Fuck me sideways!" Bryce's eyes widened in understanding.

"Holy crap!" Jill exclaimed.

"You want to substitute Chuck for the real Lichtenstein?" Sarah voiced what everyone else was thinking.

"That's the general idea. I had our experts compare photos of Lichtenstein and Mr. Bartowski. They say even their mothers would be unable to tell them apart."

"Sir, no," Bryce said firmly. "Over the years since our graduation from Stanford I've kept touch with Chuck. Do you know that he came really close to dying recently?"

"Of course I do. Like I said, I had him checked out very thoroughly."

"Then you know he's in no shape for spy games."

"So much the better." Graham noticed Bryce's enraged expression, so he held up his hand to stave off the expected angry protest. "I'm not being callous, Bryce. But let's face it, Hans Lichtenstein is in a coma. It would be weird, to say the least, if he woke up from it in top shape. Your friend's unfortunate predicament actually works in our favor."

"So, how are we going to do it, assuming of course that we actually go ahead with this crazy plan?" Sarah asked.

"Well, making the switch at the hospital will be a piece of cake. We already have people in there, monitoring Lichtenstein's condition and informing us of everything. We've been putting together a more comprehensive dossier on the guy, and I'm confident we'll be able to coach Mr. Bartowski sufficiently for him to pass convincingly as Lichtenstein."

"Hang on a second there, Boss. You've obviously made some way into planning this thing, but don't forget it all hinges on Chuck. He has to accept becoming part of all this."

"You and Jill know him quite well. What do you think he'll say?"

Bryce and Jill exchanged meaningful looks. They both knew there was no way Chuck would say no to helping make the world a safer place for everyone by taking down Hans Lichtenstein's criminal organization.

"My point exactly," Graham said smugly.

"I want in on this," Bryce piped up suddenly.

"How? You can't walk without crutches, you're still on pain meds and you're too close to this."

"Bullshit," Bryce said harshly. "With all due respect, sir, I can help. Maybe not with the field work at first, but this could turn out to be a long term assignment. You need people like me, people who know Chuck. Plus, it will be easier on him to have someone to turn to when it gets too much."

"Point taken. You're in."

The young agent crossed his arms and smiled smugly. "Who else will be in on this?"

"I was thinking we could start small. I have a core team in mind, which, aside from you and Mr. Bartowski, will include Dr. Roberts, Agent Walker and, from the NSA, Major Casey."

"Casey babysitting an asset even one as gold-plated as Chuck?" Bryce exclaimed. "Damn, I'd definitely pay to see the day… OUCH!" The cry of pain was due to a swift kick from Jill, fortunately on his good leg. "If it were about someone other than Chuck, Jill," he qualified his previous statement. His girlfriend just grinned smugly.

"Since you are of limited mobility, you will stay here in DC and work basic mission logistics with Major Casey, Bryce," Graham began assigning roles to the team.

"What about me?" Sarah asked.

"You will fly to LA and make initial contact with Mr. Bartowski. Drop Bryce's name if you think it'll help things along, which I believe it will. Convince him to trust you and reassure him that he'll have all the support he will need, whenever and wherever he needs it."

"Yes sir."

"I would have sent you, Bryce, but traveling is inadvisable considering your injury."

"I understand, Boss. But I do want to talk to him when he gets here."

"We've missed him," Jill added.

"OK, then," Graham got up, gathered his files and prepared to leave.

"Sir?" Bryce stopped him.

"Yes?"

"Boss, Chuck's birthday is tomorrow. What do you say we leave him to celebrate in peace before turning his life upside down, as this job is almost certain to do?"

"I have no problem with that. Sarah, discuss the approach strategy with Bryce and Jill. Since Mr. Bartowski is a friend of theirs, they'll have some useful advice to give you."

"Yes sir."

"I'll show myself out, kids. See you at work."

"Goodbye sir," the others chorused.

-o-

"Chuck, I was doing some thinking and Devon agrees," Ellie said, while they were sitting in the living room talking.

"It doesn't have to do with some miracle cure or something, does it?"

"No, not at all," Ellie shook her head emphatically. "It's more along the line of making you feel better emotionally. We are going to throw you a birthday party."

"Big deal," he scoffed. "You do that every year whether I like it or not."

"This time it's going to be a small affair, a friends and family kind of thing. Here, I already made a list of stuff to get."

Chuck skimmed over the list. "Root beer? What happened to normal beer?"

"No alcohol for you!"

"But I'm not on any medication any more!" Chuck protested.

"I know what I'm saying and it's for your own good. Besides, you love root beer floats."

"Fine," he huffed. _I'll just get Morgan to spike the punch,_ he thought. _Or, keeping in mind that Ellie may have already gotten to him, I'll spike it myself and let the others blame him, hehe. It's the perfect crime_.

"Don't sulk, bro," Devon tried to cheer Chuck up. "El and I went over the results from your latest tests. Give it a couple of weeks more, tops, and most if not all of the restrictions will be gone."

"Two MORE weeks?"

"Tops, I said tops, allowing for any unexpected occurrences, relapses, episodes, whatever."

"Fat chance of those happening, not with all of you hovering over my shoulder all the time," Chuck remarked.

"Still, it's better to be safe than sorry, little brother," Ellie pointed out. "Keep reading the list. I think you'll find many things that will cheer you up."

He smiled as he kept reading. Ellie was right. He loved a lot of the snacks his sister was planning on making for the party.

"You didn't tell us," she continued, "how was your day?"

"It was just fine. I woke up at a comfortably late hour, and had some of your horrible decaf and finished off your pizza loaf with Morgan while watching reruns of my favorite old shows on TV."

"Hey! Don't diss my choice of blends!" Ellie protested indignantly.

"Normally, I wouldn't dream of it. But I want regular, caffeinated coffee for a change. Right now, the only caffeine I'm getting is from cokes and chocolate milk, of which there is plenty in the Buy More, fortunately."

"Hrmph. What happened next?"

"Morgan informed me about the continuation of your ban on computer and video games, much to my displeasure, of course."

"Of course," she parroted, her voice dripping with both irony mixed in with a good dose of sisterly concern.

"Anyhow, we watched an episode of Matlock, followed by an A-Team one and finally we caught one of my all-time favorites, Mission Impossible."

"And then?"

"Then Morgan had to go pick up some stuff for home, so I just read a bit and then went for a walk around the Park. Oh, and I also got the latest issue of Justice League. All in all, I had a pretty good day."

His phone, which was on the coffee table, rang and he excused himself to answer it. He spoke in hushed tones and then rejoined Ellie and Devon.

"Well?" Ellie asked.

"That was Big Mike," he said, sitting down and placing his phone back on the coffee table.

"You are not on call today. What did he want?" Ellie interrupted before he had a chance to elaborate.

"There's been a change of plans. The Buy More will be closing for renovations and Big Mike wanted me to supervise the making of the necessary signs. It'll be a very easy gig, so I expect to be done with it in a couple of hours tomorrow morning. After that, all of us will be put on leave for the duration of the renovation work."

"How long will they be closed?" Devon asked.

"Big Mike said something about two weeks or so, why?"

"Then you may not have to return to the Buy More."

"You could use the time to look for another job," Ellie added.

"She's right, bro. Like I said, in two weeks you'll be fine. I just hope you've learned your lesson."

"Don't you doubt that, Captain. However, who is going to hire someone with my recent, ahem, medical history?"

"Hey, no pessimism allowed, Chuckster. A guy with your qualifications and experience will be much sought after, trust me."

"Well, I guess there is no harm in looking. Big Mike won't like me leaving on such short notice, though. Bah, I may just put in some extra days after the Buy More reopens, depending on when I actually land a new job."

"Don't tell me you got comfortable in there! You are so much better than an electronics retail chain," Ellie said.

"Sis, we all agreed my working there was always going to be a temporary thing. The only reason I got the job was to avoid going stir-crazy, as you perfectly well know. Dare I remind you how you were totally against me finding a way to keep busy?"

"Yes, because you needed rest and relaxation to recuperate."

"In all fairness, I think my recovery was actually speeded up."

Devon decided to side with Chuck. "Babe, he's right. You overlooked the psychological angle. By keeping busy and not feeling useless sitting around the apartment, Chuck made real progress in his recovery. I would have expected it to take at least an additional week otherwise."

"OK, enough said about my current and future career prospects," Chuck said. "So, what are you guys planning to do tonight?"

"Devon and I are not on call, and we thought about going out."

"It's been a while since you two last had a date night. Go, I'll be fine on my own. Maybe I'll do a little more work on my gaming rig." One of Chuck's pastimes was creating the ultimate home gaming system. While working at Roark Instruments, he hadn't had the time to do more than the occasional tinkering, but now he could devote more time to it and he'd made progress.

"Fine, but don't overdo it."

"I won't."

-o-

Graham had left them a thick dossier with everything his people had compiled on Chuck Bartowski. Although Bryce and Jill knew him well, they still leafed through it together with Sarah. It helped fill in some blanks, especially with regards to certain aspects of his professional life over the past five years.

"There is something else about Chuck that you won't find in any file," Bryce said finally.

Sarah was intrigued. "What is it?"

"Chuck was, and quite likely still is, one of the best hackers around. Have you ever heard of the Piranha?"

"No, but then again network security wasn't something I was ever tasked with."

"Well, he was rather famous in certain circles. Using his skills, he and I had a blast in Stanford."

"Oh, it was harmless fun, then."

"For the most part, yes," Bryce nodded. "But I do remember one incident Jill had with a TA."

"What happened?"

"He came on to her, that's what happened. His advances were totally unwelcome, she was with me after all, but he was an insistent bastard."

Jill took it from there. "The guys decided he needed to pay for it, so Chuck blocked his access to the university server for two weeks and also flagged him with security for sexual harassment."

"What else did you do to him? You wouldn't have let the guys have all the fun."

She grinned. "I slipped a little something of my own concoction into his coffee. It was an extra strength laxative I made in the lab. In the end, he got fired when he was caught harassing another student."

"I'm impressed," Sarah said. And she really was.

"Sarah, it's mentioned in passing here, but I want you to know it was important. Chuck is my friend and since my friendship with him is what will get him dragged into all this, I have to tell you. He had a girlfriend until about a couple of months ago. She's a really good girl, so Jill and I cannot blame either of them for what happened, but…"

"They broke up just before Chuck got sick. It's all in here."

"Yes, the family business got something of a windfall, and it was Chuck who actually encouraged her to go work with her parents. He said it was the opportunity of a lifetime and he didn't want to be the one to hold her back."

"It was very selfless of him."

"Yes, but in doing so, he lost one of his supports, which accelerated his collapse. My point is, he's still vulnerable, emotionally. Try not to do anything to hurt his feelings, OK?"

"Sure," Sarah replied. "Like you both said, he's a great guy and I can't help but like him, even though we haven't even met yet. And since I know how much he means to you, I promise to look after him as best as I can. Besides, you two will also be involved. We're all in this together."

"Deal," Bryce and Jill said in unison.

* * *

Next week we'll have the first meeting between Chuck and Sarah. Stay tuned!


	3. Chapter 3

Hello again! As promised, here's the chapter where Chuck and Sarah meet for the first time. It's somewhat close to canon, but that was intentional as I wanted to preserve the feel of the pilot episode.

I'd also like to thank you for your continued and heartening support. It really means a lot.

Finally, it's time to mention that no beta is being harmed for all this. I self-beta (no relationship whatsoever to self therapy, lol) as best as I can.

On to the story!

* * *

Wake up to the tune blaring from the alarm clock radio. Get up. Brush teeth. Shower quickly. Put on a crisp white dress shirt, black pants and Chuck Taylors. Grab pocket protector with ID tag. Head to the kitchen for a quick breakfast. Chuck had performed the Buy More workday morning routine so many times, it was all automatic for him.

"Hey bro!" Devon greeted him in the kitchen. "Allow me to be the first to wish you happy birthday."

"Thanks Devon. No morning shift today?"

"Nope. Ellie and I will just swing by the hospital later to check on a couple of patients and then we'll be returning home. Here, have a nice shake." He noticed Chuck's hesitation and quickly explained the glass' contents to reassure him. "It's a yogurt shake with a fruit juice mix." He smiled and squirted a dollop of whipped cream from a can on top.

Chuck took a tentative sip. "This is actually good!"

"And healthy," Devon added. "Cheers, bro."

"Cheers."

"Is Morgan coming over to pick you up for work?"

"Is Ellie letting me drive?" Chuck retorted.

"Not yet, little brother, but soon," Ellie butted in on the conversation, hugged her brother and accepted a kiss from her boyfriend.

Sure enough, Morgan showed up barely five minutes later. Ellie let him in and guided him to the kitchen, where Chuck was sitting with Devon.

"Hey buddy," Chuck greeted his friend.

"Let's go to work and celebrate your last day as a Buy Morian. And then your birthday."

"I'll drink to that," he said, raising his shake. Devon handed Morgan one as well.

"This stuff is good," Morgan exclaimed.

"You got some on your mustache," Ellie said, handing him a napkin.

"Thanks. Chuck, we're set to go as soon as I finish this little glass of heaven."

-o-

"Ah, you're here," Big Mike said the moment he laid eyes on the two friends. "Step into my office for a moment."

"What is it, Boss?" Morgan asked.

"I know I promised you that you weren't going to get a full shift today and I stand by it, but can you come in tomorrow as well?"

"Tomorrow?" Chuck and Morgan asked in unison.

"Yes. We need to move some merchandise, so we're having a clearance sale before closing, so we got the go-ahead to stay open one more day."

"Are we going to make any special offers?"

"I gave the list to Tang."

"Oh joy," Morgan muttered under his breath.

"Chuck, I want you to get started on the signs."

"On it, Big Mike. I'll just get Jeff to give me a hand."

"And I'll hit the sales floor, before Harry has a conniption fit," Morgan said.

"Dismissed," Big Mike waved his hand, sending them off to their respective tasks.

It didn't take Chuck long to find Jeff Barnes. Other than the manager, Jeff had been in the store the longest. Chuck knew the older man was a decent amateur artist, if the doodles on the margins of his paperwork were any indication. He was also an expert at fixing Apple products, which mostly made up for his occasional overindulgences in alcohol.

"Let me see what I can come up with," Jeff replied when Chuck told him what he wanted done.

"Don't you want me to help?"

"Not yet. I'll do some rough sketches. Then you can tell me which ones you think are best.

"Okie-dokie. I'll be at the Herd desk."

"If you need me for anything, I'll be either in the Cage or in my office."

Chuck smiled. Jeff had converted an unused (because it was plumbing-less), relatively spacious stall in the men's room into a small office with various recreational amenities. It was a nice place to chill and escape the obnoxious Harry Tang, senior Green Shirt and aspiring assistant manager.

In the interim, Chuck went online looking for news and developments on computer matters. One website caught his attention. It was about a new virus, so he briefed the rest of the Herders on it and told them what to look out for when repairing an infected computer.

Jeff eventually came looking for him. "Chuck, I did the preliminary sketches," he said without preamble, handing him a sheaf of papers.

"Thanks Jeff, that was fast."

"What can I say? I got inspired."

"You certainly did." Chuck found a collage made up of Buy More employee photos. A (perpetually) scowling Harry Tang was holding up a sign saying 'SORRY, WE'RE CLOSED FOR RENOVATION'. A couple of Green Shirts were holding up another that said 'BUT WE'LL BE BACK IN A COUPLE OF WEEKS'. Likewise, the rest of the crew had a couple of banners unfurled, reading 'BETTER THAN EVER AND WITH NEW EXCITING OFFERS!' and 'THANK YOU AND SEE YOU SOON!' The other stuff Jeff had come up with was equally good.

"Well?"

"Impressive," Chuck commented. "How long before you can have them ready for printing, once I get the OK from Big Mike?"

"With Photoshop, it's gonna be a breeze. An hour, tops, two at the most," Jeff calculated.

"Thanks. I'll go show them to the Boss." He went to Big Mike's office, knocked and entered.

"Chuck, what can I do for you?"

"I had Jeff make preliminary designs for the announcement signs you want to put up. They're really good. Here, take a look."

"Jeff definitely has a talent."

"He does. Are they approved?"

"They are."

"Got it. I'll get the ball rolling. Oh, and one more thing: I may not be around when the store reopens. I'll use the break to look for a job, so consider this my two-week notice."

"Listen Chuck, I know you're way overqualified for this place, but I'm desperately in need of an assistant manager. Right now, it's down between you, Harry Tang and a guy from Central, Emmett Milbarge."

"Milbarge… Sounds familiar."

"He's the efficiency evaluation expert."

"Yes, he came by a couple of times with Mercer from HR. I remember him now. Anyway, I had to let you know. According to Ellie and Devon I'll be fine in two weeks, so…"

"As much as I value you as an employee here, I hope I won't have to see your face again here, except as a shopper or a supplier."

"You got it."

"Before I forget, happy birthday, Chuck." Big Mike got up, went around his desk and enveloped Chuck in a hug.

"Thanks. I'm having a little birthday bash at my place later today. I already told the others about it and Marvin, Skip, Morgan and a couple of others are free to attend. What about you?"

"I'm afraid I have to stay late doing paperwork and then I have to meet the missus for dinner."

"Ah well, have a nice time, then."

"You too. We'll miss you around here."

"Don't worry. Skip and Marvin are more than capable of taking up the slack."

"Go have your birthday. I'll see you again tomorrow."

"Right. And since I'm not on call tonight, I'll leave the keys to the Herder at the desk. I'll call Devon to pick me up on the way home."

"Take Grimes with you. It's only fair, since I have the two of you working the same shifts."

"Gotcha. See you tomorrow." Chuck went to break the news to Morgan and then see Jeff about the signs, after calling Devon, who happened to be nearby.

-o-

They got home to find Ellie already in the kitchen preparing the party snacks and the cake. Instead of an apron, she was wearing her surgical scrubs, something the guys always found hilarious. She was in the zone, so she unceremoniously kicked them out of the kitchen and banished the three of them to the living room and the other areas of the apartment. They ended up talking about their work for the day – Morgan bemoaning having been stuck in the children's section – and having a lively discussion on the potential merits of ordering a custom-made cabinet for the living room's TV and home entertainment systems. Chuck went so far as to offer to design it himself, drawing on his vast experience of gaming and movie nights. Devon thought it was a good idea and even Morgan contributed a suggestion or two. They decided to (mostly) skip lunch, as there would be more than enough food at the party, so they made do with whatever snacks they succeeded in stealing from the kitchen after Devon deftly managed to distract Ellie for a few minutes.

Hours later, the party in the courtyard was in full swing. Chuck was being the gracious host, and not omitting giving due credit to his sister as the party organizer. As he mingled with the guests, most of whom favorably commented on the speed of his recovery, he noticed that Ellie was absorbed in a conversation with Anna Wu. It was the perfect opportunity. He snagged a beer – a real beer, namely a Bud – from the refreshments table, twisted the cap off and took a long sip, almost letting out a moan of pleasure.

"Dude! What are you doing?" It was Morgan and he was horrified at the sight of his friend enjoying some alcohol. "Ellie is going to have a fit if she sees you."

"I know," Chuck winked conspiratorially.

"Come inside with me for a minute. And hide that beer."

"Sure, what's up?"

"You got a call on Skype from Bryce and Jill."

"I miss those guys," Chuck said and practically ran to his room, jumping inside through the open window. Sure enough, both Bryce and Jill were waving at him from the computer monitor.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHUCK!"

"Thanks guys, always nice to hear from you."

"How's the party going?"

"See this?" He held up his beer bottle. "It took me a covert operation to snag it from under Ellie's nose. She's still being overcautious."

"Given what happened, I think she's more than justified," Bryce said seriously.

"Anyway, why aren't you two out on a date or something?" Chuck asked, noticing that both of them were in sweatpants and t-shirts.

"Can't," Bryce replied and turned his laptop to bring his bandage-swaddled ankle into the webcam's field of view.

"Oh man, what happened?"

"I sprained it during a paintball game. Thus, going out on a date was effectively ruled out."

"Does it hurt?"

"Not so much now. I don't even need painkillers any more, so I can drink a toast to you."

Jill ducked out of view for a second and returned with two beer bottles, handing one to her boyfriend. "Here's looking at you, Chuck," she said, bringing her bottle almost to the screen. Bryce and Chuck did the same.

"Thanks. In turn, I wish your ankle to get better sooner than later."

"According to the doctor, it was a relatively mild sprain. I'll be up and about in a couple of days at most."

"Good to know."

"So, what have you been up to lately?"

"Well, the Buy More is closing for renovations, so after tomorrow I'll be on a two week leave. I'll use the time to look for another job, since Ellie and Devon say I'll be completely fine after that time."

"Good to know, buddy. We'll let you get back to the party. Happy birthday again and good luck."

"Get well soon, too. Have a nice evening, guys." Chuck signed off and contentedly sipped his beer. He was about to suggest killing the lights, but he figured the risk of being discovered by Ellie was minimal. He finished the bottle and cunningly left it just outside his window, where it would be ignored until the post-party clean up. He returned to mingling with the guests until he was summoned to blow out the candles on the cake. He wasn't prepared for the surprise guests though.

"Mom? Dad? Weren't you guys working on a contract in Hawaii?" Stephen J. Bartowski, Chuck's dad was a freelance computer engineer and his job kept him traveling all over the country. When he got the contract to work on a corporation's system in Hawaii, he'd jumped the chance to take his wife on a romantic work trip. Mary Elizabeth Bartowski also had a job of her own as a security consultant, but she'd taken time off to spend it with her husband.

"Do you really think we'd miss your birthday, son?" Stephen said.

"Happy birthday, Chuck," his mom added, giving him a hug. "Now, blow out the candles and make a wish."

The rest of the evening was fun. Chuck, Ellie and their parents talked, did some necessary catching up on each other and generally had fun. Even the clean up was enjoyable, with lighthearted banter back and forth… until Ellie discovered a beer bottle inside Chuck's room.

"Chuck, what is this? I found it in your room."

"Uh, it's mine," Morgan said quickly. "I sneaked into his room to drink it, as I didn't want him to get jealous."

"Huh. OK then."

As they went to throw some garbage bags into the dumpster, Chuck thanked Morgan for his quick thinking. "Nice reflexes, buddy. You just saved my butt."

Morgan looked around to make sure they were alone. "Not just yours, mine too. What do you think Ellie would have done since she would automatically assume I was in the know and let you drink the beer regardless?"

"Ouch…"

"My point exactly," Morgan said smugly. "And, by the way, it was my beer. You were careful to leave your bottle outside. I just forgot that bottle after I went to check for any more emails."

"Did I have any?"

"No. All the well-wishers had the foresight to send their happy birthday emails early.

"OK. Let's get rid of these and grab some shuteye. You are more than welcome to crash here, if you like."

"I'll take you up on your offer. Besides, who wouldn't want some of Ellie's leftover pigs in a blanket for breakfast? Not this one, thank you very much."

"Leave some for me, if you wake up first," Chuck laughed as they made their way back to the apartment.

-o-

The Buy More was a madhouse in the morning. Word had gone out about the clearance sale and customers had been flocking in since opening time. Chuck himself had helped clear the backlog of repair jobs and now he was alternating between manning the Nerd Herd desk and prowling the sales floor around the computer and peripherals shelves, assisting the Green Shirts whenever required.

A customer in a hurry asked him to put together a computer for her, after selecting the individual components, so he assembled it right at the Nerd Herd desk, his virtuoso performance drawing quite a crowd of onlookers. At the back of said crowd was a stunning blue eyed tall blonde in a tan leather jacket, skinny jeans and boots, and she was watching him with interest, although he was too busy to notice her.

Her phone vibrated in the pocket of her jacket and she pulled it out to answer it. "Walker... Yes sir, I'm about to make contact now... Don't worry, I was thoroughly briefed by people who know him well, remember? … I know you're just checking... It's gonna be... Hello?" She checked the phone and it was dead. "Dammit! I just recharged it," she muttered. She was about to move forward and talk to Chuck when an obviously harried man with a little girl in tow cut in right in front of her.

"Excuse me," he said.

"How may I help you?" Chuck said with a smile.

"I bought this camera here yesterday and I filmed my daughter's entire dance recital, but now it won't play back. Can you please tell me what the problem is?"

"Of course." Chuck took the camera and opened it. "Uh, sir, you haven't put tape in there."

"But it's digital..."

"Well, you still need digital tape."

"No. Oh, no. My wife is going to kill me."

"Well, I believe we can do something." He turned to Morgan. "Buddy, I'll need the Wall." In a few minutes, he'd put together an impromptu dance recital and even encouraged the nervous little ballerina. Sarah, watching all of this, wasn't really surprised. Bryce and Jill had repeatedly praised their friend's character and willingness to help others. Still, seeing it with her own two eyes impressed her mightily. Any other person might have told the customer how his camera worked and then left him to fend for himself. Then she remembered her dead phone. _Might as well kill two birds with one stone,_ she thought. "Excuse me," she said aloud.

Chuck had been in the middle of trying to call Central to ask which branch would be taking over the service jobs while the Burbank store was closed, something no one had apparently thought about, when he looked up at her and just froze. The woman in front of him was stunning. "Hi," he managed to say in a mostly normal voice. "How may I help you?"

"It's my phone," she said, placing the offending gadget on the desk. "It just died on me."

"Do you need me to recharge it for you?"

"No, the battery was full."

"Ah, I think I know what's wrong. This is the latest Intellicell smart phone." He opened it, extracted the battery and tightened a screw. "There," he said, handing it back to its owner. "Good as new."

She turned it on and wasn't really surprised to find it working perfectly. "Thanks. You guys are really good. How much do I owe you?"

"For this? No, it was nothing."

"Thanks again. Anyway, Mr. Bartowski, this is not why I came here today."

"Wait, you know my name?"

"I know a lot about you. In fact, you are the reason I'm here."

"Oh. I'm flattered, Ms...?"

"Walker," she said. "Sarah Walker."

"Chuck Bartowski, but then you already know that." They shook hands. He noticed Morgan watching the exchange with interest. "Ms. Walker, meet Morgan Grimes, my intrepid coworker and best friend."

"Enchanted," he said.

"Hi," she said. "It's nice to meet you."

"You can say it, you know," Chuck said.

"Say what?"

"About our names. I noticed how you reacted when I introduced Morgan to you."

"Yeah, well, one does not encounter such names so much."

He smiled. "My parents were sadists. And carnival freaks found him in a dumpster."

"But they raised me as one of their own," Morgan finished the joke. The ice, if there was any to begin with, was definitively broken, if Sarah's smile was any indication.

"I see. Is there a place we can talk, Mr. Bartowski?"

"Please, call me Chuck. If you can wait for a few minutes, my lunch break is coming up."

"Fine by me."

"Then how about we meet at the Wienerlicious in about ten minutes?"

"Okay," she nodded. "See you there."

"What was that all about?" Morgan asked after she left.

"She said she came here to talk to me, so I assume it's about a job offer of some sort."

"The legendary Luck of the Bartowski's strikes again," Morgan said, impressed. "You didn't even begin looking for a new job and the new job found you instead."

"She said she already knows things about me. I wonder how much."

"Frankly, I'm not really that surprised. From what I've heard, a lot of companies have been snatching up former RI employees. I guess it was your turn, finally. Just do me a favor, Chuck. Don't let the new job run you to the ground again."

"I think I can safely say this will never happen. I learned my lesson."

"Good. Now go turn on the charm on the beautiful recruiting lady."

"It's a business meeting, nothing more," Chuck reminded Morgan.

"There are more than one kinds of charm, pal. You put the mojo on her and the job is yours, period. What am I saying, the job is already yours, otherwise they wouldn't have bothered to send her to seek you out."

"I still have a few minutes..."

"Go, I'll get Marvin or Skip to cover for you."

"Thanks Morgan."

"I'll be waiting for the good news."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** As you've probably determined by now, this story has nothing in common with episode 4.16, aside from the title, of course. In fact, Masquerade was a short-lived show from the eighties, where the intelligence community recruited ordinary people for specific missions. I remember watching a few episodes back in the nineties. I looked up the opening theme on Youtube, just to remember, and it has a Bond-ish feel to it.

Explanations over, I'd like to thank you again for your unwavering support. Without further ado, Chapter Four.

* * *

Chuck took a minute to let Marvin know he was going to be across the parking lot in the Wienerlicious should anything requiring his attention come up and then exited the store, expertly avoiding a prowling Harry Tang. He was in too good a mood to have it ruined by an argument with the conceited busybody.

She noticed him the moment he opened the door to the hot dog place and waved to get his attention. He saw her and moved to sit at her table.

"You're early," she remarked, setting the menu she had been looking at aside.

"Um, it's nice to have friends willing to cover for you, so here I am."

"No argument here," she said. "And seeing this was supposed to be your lunch break, why don't we make a business meal out of it?"

"OK," he grinned. They gave their orders to the Wiener girl on duty and sat back to wait for their food to arrive.

"I'm sure you are quite curious as to why I'm here," she began, after the waitress moved out of earshot.

"Not really," he shrugged. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but the consensus is that you want to make me a job offer."

"You are one hundred percent right. It's not, however, the kind of job you are expecting."

"It's not?"

"No."

"Then what do you need a Nerd like me for? I'm a computer systems and software designer by trade."

"Yes, I know. Frankly, I was surprised when I found I wouldn't have to pirate you from a lucrative job with one of the major players."

"Ms. Walker…"

"Please, call me Sarah."

"Sarah, I'm damaged goods. Most prospective employers steer clear of people with my, um, medical history."

"Their loss," she shrugged. "Besides, I don't think of you as damaged goods, Chuck. If anything, your unfortunate recent illness showed how dedicated and driven you are, even to the detriment of your own health. How's that for a different perspective?"

"It's a compliment to my work ethic?"

"Yes. As I was saying, the job we need you for is not what you are used to, but I cannot go into details, not yet."

"It's not anything illegal, I hope?"

"Illegal? No, it couldn't be more legit, in fact."

"Now I find I'm intrigued."

She smiled. "Time to lay down some ground rules, Chuck. Whether you decide to take the job or not, and that's entirely up to you, there is a stack of non-disclosure agreements you'll have to sign first."

"Must be some job, if it warrants all the secrecy."

"You don't know the half of it. Obviously, we can't go and take care of the matter now, there is no time for it."

"All right. Is there anything you can actually tell me?"

"The financial aspect of the offer is going to be most appealing."

"Compared to the thirteen bucks an hour I'm making in the Buy More, anything would appear most generous."

"You'll have to work for every cent of it. It's definitely not going to be easy."

"Bring it on," he said, his old confidence returning.

"I like your attitude, but you should wait until you learn exactly what this job entails before you accept. I'll remind you once again that you have the option of rejecting the offer." As soon as the words had left her mouth, she realized something: Normally, she would have never stressed the deny option. Bryce's influence, she surmised. After all, she could always write it off as a favor to her friend and partner. Yes, that was it. She was certainly not going soft. "And, no matter what happens, you can never talk about it to anyone. Is that clear?"

"Crystal," he replied without hesitation. "So, is there anything at all you can tell me about my mystery prospective employer?"

"Nothing until you're done with the paperwork," she replied. She clammed up when their orders arrived and then eyed Chuck's cheese-drowned nachos with suspicion.

"Try them," he said, as if reading her mind. "This nacho cheese is toxic, but it's the best I've ever had outside of home."

She daintily bit into one. "It's definitely better than I remember it," she conceded. _What's wrong with me,_ she thought, after just catching herself from volunteering personal information, namely how her stints at a Wienerlicious and an Orange Orange back in high school had helped pay for her first car. Her friends' influence had led her to become quite comfortable in the presence of Chuck Bartowski. She needed to get her super spy mojo back and fast.

For the remainder of the meal, Sarah asked and Chuck answered questions about Stanford, his employment with the Buy More chain and a company that had eventually been acquired by Roark Instruments.

"And that about covers it," Chuck finished answering her last question. "What do you think?"

Sarah thought for a moment. In her opinion, Chuck Bartowski was quick to adapt to any situation, so it stood to reason that Graham's crazy plan had a real chance to work. In addition, he'd mentioned something about doing some acting in high school and college theater productions, so she made a mental note to search the web for videos of his performances and also ask Bryce and Jill about it. Acting skills would certainly come in handy if he eventually got the job to play the part of Hans Lichtenstein. "I have a feeling you'll do just fine," she said finally.

He checked his watch. "I should be getting back to work soon."

"I understand. When do you clock out for the day?"

"At five, sharp," he replied.

"Unless you have someplace else to be, I'd like to meet you again when you get off work and talk more about the job."

"OK. It won't be a problem." He waved the waitress over and asked for the check. Sarah reached for her wallet, but he stopped her. "It's my treat."

"But..."

"Please, no 'buts', Sarah. You took time off your schedule to meet me and offer me a job. This is the least I can do in return." He paid, tipped the Wiener girl and they left the hot dog place, he heading back to the Buy More and she going to get her car from the parking lot.

Morgan intercepted Chuck the moment he stepped inside. "Well?"

"She offered me a job, as we thought," Chuck replied.

"Come on, dude, can't you be a little more specific?"

"I would if I could, little buddy. Sarah was really secretive for some reason. She even told me I am going to have to sign a stack of non-disclosure agreements before she can even tell me the basics the job entails."

"Can't say I'm surprised," Morgan said. "As you know first hand, companies go to extreme lengths to protect their secrets from corporate espionage."

"I'll know soon enough," Chuck said dismissively.

"Wait, you'll know, but you won't be able to tell me, right?"

"Yep. Sorry."

"Don't sweat about it."

As if on cue, Lester called Chuck to the Nerd Herd desk to answer a customer's questions about a computer on sale.

-o-

A middle aged man parked his Chrysler Stratus convertible in a quiet residential street not very far from Echo Park. He was a little nervous about the meeting he wanted to initiate and his palms were sweaty. He wiped them on his grey dress pants and for the thousandth time that day looked into the rear view mirror and straightened his tie. "No guts, no glory," he muttered to himself and got out, approaching a woman pushing a stroller. "Hello love," he said.

The woman was obviously surprised to see him. "Jack, what on earth are you doing here?"

"I came to see my beloved wife," he replied, as nonchalantly as he could. "We are still married, after all."

"And separated," she added.

"We don't have to be separated any more," he said, offering her a beautiful bouquet of flowers. "I love you, Emma."

"Jack, I've told you…"

"I know," he interrupted her. "And I did it. I did it for you and our girl."

"How can I trust you?"

"You are still wearing your ring," he said, nodding towards her left hand. "This tells me you meant it when you said I could come back when I turned my life around. And I did, because I love you."

"Jack…"

"Hear me out, please. I am running my own business now, I have for a couple of years. Before that, I did some work here and there, hard and honest work, paycheck to paycheck, until I had enough money saved for start-up capital. You don't know how many times I came here, trying to screw up the courage to talk to you. And then, the other day, I saw our baby girl, leaving you with this cutie pie." He smiled at the baby in the stroller. "Is she our granddaughter?"

"No, I'm adopting her."

"You're what?"

Emma looked a little uncomfortable. She had some explaining to do on her daughter's behalf. "Come inside and we'll talk."

"Sure. By the way, I also got this for the little one." He reached into a bag and produced a stuffed toy dog with a bright ribbon tied in a bow around its neck. "You think she'll like it?"

"Molly's gonna love it."

"So that's her name? Molly? I like it. And I like her already. Emma, would it be too much if I said that I want to be part of this? I'd like to adopt her together with you."

"You've just met her."

"By your own admission, you first met her just a few days ago and she's already won you over. Sarah knew what she was doing when she gave her to you. Please, Emma, let's do this together."

"Let me think about it. In the meantime, we have a lot to talk about, so come on in."

Emma led her husband inside and proceeded to make coffee for the two of them, as well as prepare a bottle for the baby girl. Molly appeared to be very comfortable in Jack's presence, smiling and babbling happily as he bounced her on his lap. The scene reminded her of Sarah as a baby.

He heard her approaching and looked up. "She's a lovely little thing. And I think she likes me. Listen, Emma, before you say anything, I know I wasn't the best father in the world for Sarah. But I am going to be the best father possible for Molly, if you are willing to let me give it a shot."

"The jury is still out on that one," Emma admitted. "But first I need to tell you Molly's story."

"I'm all ears." He listened attentively, never once interrupting his wife's narrative, but if his facial expressions were any indication, he was shocked and outraged by the baby girl's misfortune. It also came as a huge surprise for him to learn about Sarah's job, and he couldn't help worrying about her, but he was also insanely proud of her and her achievements.

"And now you know everything," Emma finished.

"I'm all in, Emma. This little girl is going to have the life she deserves, with a happy, loving family. I am damn sure you are going to do a fantastic job on your own, but if you are willing to let me help, I promise you are never going to regret it. I love you, I love Sarah and I already love this little munchkin." Molly squirmed in his arms and started getting fussy. "By the way, I think she needs a new diaper."

"The changing table is over there," Emma said, jerking her thumb in the direction of the necessary supplies. "Holler if you need any help."

"Thanks, but I've got this. This isn't my first rodeo, you know." He carried the baby to the changing table and deftly worked on getting her into a new diaper. "Although I'll never understand how such small beings can produce something so foul smelling – or get used to it."

Emma couldn't help but laugh out loud. He smiled and then bent down and blew a raspberry on Molly's tummy, causing her to squeal happily. Her small hands made a grab for his hair, and he reacted swiftly, pulling her up with both hands, before the tug could turn painful. Emma handed him a turquoise onesie and soon the little girl was in her crib, pacifier in her mouth, contentedly pulling at her blankie, her newest toy placed next to the crib.

"Give her a few minutes and she'll be asleep. This girl can sleep through anything," Emma said. "Now tell me more about your life. I need information if I am to include you in the adoption papers."

-o-

Sarah vacillated between going to see her mother and Molly and going to the office. Duty won out, so she went to an office building across the street from one the CIA was using as a receiving station for agents arriving from overseas. The office she went in to was normally used as a security observation post, but Graham had authorized her to have exclusive use of it for a few days. She called Langley, being patched through to the Director without delay, and she reported that she'd made initial contact and her first impressions of the subject were favorable.

Not wanting to waste any time until she had to go pick up Chuck from the Buy More, she organized the paperwork they would have to go through first and then spent a few minutes rehearsing what she would say about what the job entailed. Just then, she had an idea: Chuck was an acknowledged computer genius. So, in addition to impersonating Hans Lichtenstein, he could probably assist her team in accessing every scrap of data from Lichtenstein Enterprises' computer systems. Time flew by as she worked and, before she knew it, it was time to go for her second, decisive meeting with Chuck Bartowski.

-o-

At five o'clock she was waiting by her Porsche in the Buy More parking lot. She saw Chuck and Morgan exiting the store and waved. She saw Morgan nudge his friend and then give her a friendly wave before going to get his bicycle. Since it was their last day there before closing, they had to turn the Herder in, so Morgan had taken his bicycle along and Chuck had originally arranged for Devon or Ellie to come and give him a ride home. Of course, he had called them with the change of plan. In fact, both had been quite pleased to learn he was possibly on track for getting a new better job.

"Hi Chuck," she greeted him when he approached. "Get in."

"Nice ride," he commented. "Your job must be paying well."

"I can't complain, but to be honest I got this one at a police auction."

They both got in and buckled up. She noticed, impressed, that Chuck had put on a suit jacket, which combined with the shirt, tie and dress pants made him look quite good. His All Stars were a bit mismatched with the rest of his outfit, but she didn't care. Not that anyone would notice, anyway. It was common knowledge, after all, that IT experts often had a unique sense where sartorial sophistication was concerned, and he was no exception.

"What?" Sarah asked, halfway into the drive.

"Nothing," he replied hastily.

"It's not nothing. You've been staring at my center console ever since you got in, so spill."

"Um, you see, being a Nerd in addition to working at the Buy More, makes one pay attention to various gadgets. Your car has a good entertainment system, but it's quite dated. I mean, it doesn't have an iPod dock or a nav display integrated with the entertainment system."

"Huh. Maybe I'll get one installed some day."

"Be sure to do it at the Burbank Buy More. You'll get excellent service at great prices."

"I'll keep it in mind. At least it has a Bluetooth interface for my cell phone."

They shared a good laugh over it and soon they were at the office building where Sarah was temporarily based. She parked and led him to the elevator, taking him upstairs to 'her' office.

"Take a seat, Chuck," she said. "Would you like anything, water, coffee?"

"A real coffee would be nice, thank you. Morgan and Ellie wouldn't let me touch the stuff, but they are not here now."

"May I ask why?"

"They claimed the caffeine might impede my recovery. Something having to do with its effect as a stimulant, I guess."

"Then maybe I should get you a decaf."

"No more decaf, please," he pleaded. "I'm fine. I had a couple of beers yesterday with no ill effects, so they are just being overcautious."

"Okay," she conceded and went to a small room to start a pot of coffee. "While waiting for it to get ready, you may as well get started on signing the forms I mentioned." She pushed a stack of paperwork his way.

"Okie-dokie," he said affably. He began reading the topmost document and suddenly froze. "Hold on... it says here 'US Government'? What does the Government have to do with...?"

"Keep reading," she said.

"Espionage Act... other applicable laws... yadda, yadda, yadda..." He looked up from the papers and fixed her with a questioning glare. "So, you work for the government?"

"I told you the job wouldn't be what you are used to."

"Yeah, but I wasn't expecting this!"

"Well, you can leave and forget all about it, should you so wish. There will be no consequences at all. But be warned: if you decide to stay and hear what it's about, you'll have to sign each and every one of the documents I gave you."

"Is it important?"

"Yes," she replied without hesitation.

"Then I'll stay." He read through the first document, which was basically informing him of the provisions of various laws and regulations applicable to the situation. He picked up a pen and signed it, acknowledging he had been duly informed of its contents. The second document was an even bigger surprise. "CIA?" Chuck squeaked.

Sarah thought it was mildly entertaining. She crossed her legs, planted her elbows on her chair's armrests and steepled her fingers, giving him an enigmatic smiled rivaling Mona Lisa's. "What can I say? We do need your services, Chuck."

"I have a feeling nothing will surprise me after today." He carefully read the paper, signed it and set it on top of the first, then proceeding to speed-read and sign the rest. "Here, all done," he sighed. "Now, what warranted all the secrecy and subterfuge?"

Instead of replying verbally, Sarah pushed a glossy photo across the desk to him.

"That's me!"

"Actually, it's not you, Chuck. This is the man whose place we want you to take for a while."

"Huh?"

"You heard me. As it turns out, you are a spitting image of him."

"No shit," he commented. "I am me and I can't even tell the difference between us... aside from the haircut, of course. Who is he, by the way?"

"Right now, I cannot divulge any more information. So, are you in or out? I'll remind you that you are obliged to keep everything you've learned so far to yourself should you decide to decline the offer."

He thought that he could just do an image based search on Google using his own picture and see what he could come up with, but kept the thought to himself. "The money you are offering is good," he conceded. "But exactly how important is this? It will help me make up my mind."

"I won't lie to you, Chuck. It's very important, otherwise we wouldn't have gone to such lengths. You can help save many lives all over the world by helping us infiltrate this man's organization."

Chuck looked at her intently, searching for signs of deceit. He found none. Plus, she and the CIA had gone to some lengths to recruit him. "Fine. I'll do it, whatever it is."

"I had a feeling you'd agree."

"Can I ask you one question?"

"Sure, shoot."

"How did you find me?"

She decided to be honest with him, especially since he was definitely going to find out soon enough. "I mistook him for you," she said, tapping Lichtenstein's photo.

"What? How do you know me?"

"I don't. My partner does. In fact, you two are very good friends."

"And who, dare I ask, is your partner?"

"Bryce Larkin," she said.

"Bryce? Bryce Larkin? Bryce Larkin from Connecticut is a spy?"

"I saw pictures of you with him in his apartment. And yes, he's a spy."

"Unbe-bloody-lievable!"

"Trust me, he was pretty shocked when he learned about your doppelganger and in fact he was a little mad at me for telling our boss that I knew of someone that looked just like the mark. He wanted to keep you out of this, but in the end agreed it was all up to you."

"Remember when I said nothing would surprise me any more? Scratch that. It seems like surprises are lining up for me."

"Is it such a bad thing?" Sarah asked innocently.

"Probably not. OK, since I'm in, what else can you tell me?"

"First, I'll go get our coffees. I have a feeling we'll need them."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** You are still enjoying this, I see. Good. It's also a challenge to me, since I have to keep you guys happy, but it's one I enjoy. Yet again, the update is fortunately on time, considering my knack for procrastination, one thing I have in common with the fictional yet brilliant Richard Castle, hehe.

Well, enjoy the new chapter! I borrowed some scenes from the pilot episode, changing them up to fit this AU. Hopefully, it worked.

* * *

Chuck gratefully accepted the cup of coffee Sarah offered him and took a sip. "You even know how I take it," he said, impressed. "You must have really paid attention to detail."

"Well, my partner happens to be Bryce, remember? A long talk with him and Jill was very informative."

"Rewind please. Jill is in on this too?"

"She's more of a lab rat, but yes. She also works for the CIA."

"More surprises," he mused. "OK, let's talk about the job. I have a few questions."

"You only have a few questions? Lucky me," she grinned.

"First of all, what am I supposed to tell my family and friends?"

"Actually, that one is simple. You'll tell them you got a great job offer and you have to travel to the East Coast with me in order to work out the details, learn the ropes and get started."

"This sounds workable. How long will I be gone?"

"Depends on various factors: how long it will take us to prepare you and the rest of the team for the mission, whether the mark's status has changed or not and how long it will take us to collect the required intel once we have successfully infiltrated the mark's network."

"With me posing as said mark."

"Yep. His name is Hans Lichtenstein, by the way."

He stole a look at the top of the line laptop computer on Sarah's desk. "May I?"

"You're going to Google him, aren't you?"

"Or I could just ask you. Am I going to find anything worthwhile?"

"Not really," she informed him. "He keeps pretty much out of the limelight, although he is a billionaire. Of course, he occasionally attends certain functions, but he's always discreet about it."

"You mentioned his current status may be subject to change. What can you tell me about it?"

"He's in a coma," Sarah stated bluntly.

"Did you put him in it?"

"As much as the idea would appeal to me, no. He has an allergy he apparently didn't know about and it almost killed him. You'll be briefed on his medical records once we get to DC."

"Let me get this straight. Lichtenstein is in a coma." He looked at her and she nodded. "But you want him awake for some reason." Another nod. "And finding me was lucky for you, because you don't have to wait for him to come out of the coma, since you can simply perform a switch now."

"In a nutshell, yes. We want to pass it off as him regaining consciousness."

He took another long sip of coffee and watched her do the same. "Do you think it'll work?"

"Provided we coach you sufficiently, yes, I think we can do this. We can even write off some inevitable behavioral inconsistencies as aftereffects of the coma."

"You guys really think of everything, don't you?"

"We try," she replied modestly. "Leading experts in the fields of neurology and neuropsychology were consulted. You said you're in, right?"

"Yes," he confirmed.

"Can I call my boss and tell him you accept the offer?"

"Please do, by all means. Do you want me to step outside for a while?"

"You don't need to."

"What I do need to do is visit the little boys' room."

Sarah nodded in understanding. "It's through that door."

"Okie-dokie. I'll be right back."

"Take your time."

He disappeared through the door to the bathroom and she moved to pick up the phone and call Langley. Her report to Graham was concise and to the point. Chuck Bartowski had accepted the offer. The others should get the ball rolling on their end. Travel arrangements were unchanged: flight for two to DC the following day, or the day after at the latest.

She looked up when he returned. "We are flying to DC tomorrow or the next day," she informed him.

"Sarah, I was thinking... what if he wakes up before you can switch us?"

"I got some good news about that. He won't," she said with a meaningful smile.

Chuck caught on immediately. "You'll have people making sure he stays under."

"Yes. Ever since I mentioned you to my boss, he issued new orders to the team keeping an eye on Lichtenstein."

"What is going to happen to him after the switch?"

"Frankly, I don't know and to be honest I don't really care."

"Huh. If it's anything like the movies I've seen or the books I've read, the CIA could use him to obtain more information. He'll have nothing to lose by talking, since effectively I would be him."

"You know, this is a pretty good idea. If he thinks people believe you to be him, or maybe if we tell him they believe he's dead, it'll be in his best interests to talk. What he reveals will be of use for your cover."

"OK."

"There is one more thing: We need to assign you a cover name, as officially Chuck Bartowski will have no connection to the CIA."

"You guys are really thorough," he said admiringly.

"I like to think so, Mr. Carmichael."

"What did you just call me? Where did you hear about...? Oh, I get it! It was Bryce, wasn't it?"

"He told me a lot about your Stanford escapades. And, in case you accepted the offer, which you did, I had the necessary documents made for you."

"So the fictional version of me gets a career change from semi-retired millionaire to a spy, huh?"

"Since you accepted the job, I guess so, yes."

"Carmichael, Charles Carmichael," he said, changing his voice into a passable imitation of the legendary Sean Connery, the best 007 ever.

She laughed, appreciating his finding humor in the situation. "There are more details to work out, but this is neither the place nor the time to do it. It's getting late. I can give you a lift home, if you like."

"I'd appreciate it, thank you."

"Let's go."

Sarah quickly locked up and led him back to her car. They consciously avoided talking about work on the way to Echo Park. Finally, she stopped outside the apartment complex where he lived.

"Thanks for the ride," he said. "And the job."

"Don't thank me about that, Chuck. After everything Bryce told me about you, I'm sorry I had to drag you into all this," she said honestly.

"You don't have anything to be sorry about, Sarah. I understand why you had to do it and, bear in mind, I accepted at my own free will."

"Just remember not to say a word about what we discussed today."

"My lips are sealed," he promised. He was half out of the car when he had an idea. "Sarah, do you have any plans?"

"Plans?"

"I was thinking... maybe you can join us for dinner."

She pondered the offer for a moment. Until now, she had been planning to go to a restaurant for dinner or go back to the office and order take out. "I don't know..."

"It won't be any trouble," he assured her. "Besides, I think it would help if you told Ellie and Devon about me needing to be out of town."

"I still don't know about this, but OK."

"Great. Follow me."

"Are you sure I'm not going to inconvenience you and your family in any way?"

"I'm positive," he replied and led her into the courtyard. He suddenly stopped by the fountain. "This is not good."

"What?" Sarah was instantly on high alert, scanning the area for any sign of danger.

"The lights are out in our place." He fished in his pocket for his keys.

"Chuck, be careful."

"Relax, Sarah. Ellie and Devon probably got called to the hospital. They are doctors, you know."

"Yes, I do know." Sarah mentally kicked herself for not remembering this detail promptly enough.

Chuck unlocked the door and switched on the lights. Sure enough, he soon found a note addressed to him on the dinner table. "I was right. They had to go to work. Ellie says I have to order something, because she didn't have time to cook. Bummer."

"No big deal, Chuck," she offered soothingly. "I can always order in, too."

"Nuh-uh, this won't cut it. I promised you dinner and dinner you shall receive. And as I'm not about to inflict my cooking on you, I know just the place. Just give me a few minutes to change. In the meantime, make yourself comfortable." With that he disappeared inside his room, leaving Sarah in the living room. She shrugged and sat down on the very comfortable couch. Her eyes wandered over the place, noticing the family photos displayed on a shelf in the bookcase next to the home entertainment system cabinet. It almost made her feel sorry for dragging a nice guy from away from his quiet, obviously happy life and into the spy world. Chuck's return pulled her from her thoughts. She gave him the once-over and had to admit it, he looked good. He had changed into dark denims and a nice shirt and also had a lightweight jacket draped over one arm. "Let's go," he said.

"Go where?"

"To your car, for starters," he replied, ushering her out of the apartment, killing the lights and locking up again after leaving a note for Ellie.

With Chuck giving her directions, Sarah drove to a place not far from his apartment, or the hotel she was staying at the moment, for what the matter. It was a Tex-Mex restaurant she had never been to.

"Welcome to the Desperado," the Latina receptionist greeted them. "Would you like a table for two or a booth?"

Chuck glanced at Sarah, who shrugged, being comfortable with either choice. "We'll take a booth please," he said.

"Certainly. There are several booths available."

"Thank you." He led Sarah inside and took a booth not too close to the band. This way they could have a proper conversation.

"It looks like a nice place."

"As a matter of fact, it's one of my favorite places to go to."

A waiter brought them menus and left them alone to browse through them. Sarah asked for his opinion about the items on offer and he was only too glad to assist her in making an excellent selection. In a manner that reminded him of Ellie, Sarah was adamant on not allowing him to drink anything stronger than a beer. The conversation between the two flowed easily as they dug into their meal, but for the moment avoided any work related subjects.

At one point Sarah noticed him giving her a look. "What?"

"Nothing... it's just... we're talking about us, yet you are being pretty vague about your life."

"I have to," she said. "Goes with the job."

"Captain Awesome would not give up as easily as I am going to," he told her.

"Who?"

"Didn't Bryce tell you about the nickname I came up with for Devon?"

"No, it must have slipped his mind. Wait, you call your sister's boyfriend Captain Awesome?"

"Everything he does is awesome; rock climbing, rafting, mountain biking, jumping out of planes... flossing... not to mention he's a cardiothoracic surgeon."

"I know he's a doctor."

"He and Ellie have been together since their first day at med school. Anyway, what I'm saying is he'd love to learn about what extreme sports you partake in, although for you they aren't sports, but part of the job."

"Okay... what about you, Chuck? Any skeletons in your closet... any women?"

"I thought you had me checked out thoroughly, Sarah."

"To be honest, Bryce and Jill said you are not dating anyone at the moment and mentioned a girl you broke up with recently."

"Hannah," he supplied. "We had a good time together, but I wasn't about to stand in the way of her dream job. I had mine, after all, or so I thought at the time."

Her brain to mouth filter chose that moment to go AWOL. "I like you, Chuck."

"Me too," he said with a smile. "And I think we're going to make a pretty good team."

"I'll drink to that," she said, raising her Margarita.

"Cheers," he replied, clinking his beer bottle against her glass and chuckled after taking a sip. "Ellie would have a fit if she saw me right now."

"What, with me?"

"No, drinking alcohol. I try to tell her it doesn't have much effect on me, but she's really stubborn. Once she gets something in her head, everything has to be done her way."

"She's your sister, Chuck, and she loves you very much."

"I understand that, but I need some space."

"You know, Bryce said you two had a pretty wild student life at Stanford."

"Did he tell you about the fountain incident?"

"Please do tell," she said leaning forward, her blue eyes sparkling with humor. "Is it good blackmail material?"

"Assuming you mean that you want to tease him about it, yes. You see, we had gone to a party and, as usual, not only did we go overboard on the beer, but the punch was spiked as well. I can hold my liquor better than Bryce. To cut a long story short, on the way back to the frat house, he declared that he wanted to cool off... in the nearest fountain. I had to wade in, fish him out and virtually carry him back to the frat house. He fell asleep as I was trying to get the door open. The guys and I left him to sleep it off in a bathtub with a blow-up doll as a pillow."

"Damn, you're a funny guy, Chuck."

"That I am," he said proudly.

"Which is good, because I'm not funny."

"Really? I find that hard to believe."

"Trust me. I'm no fun at all, or at least my best friends say so."

"If not being funny is your big secret, all is good. Think about it. You could be funny, but, say, a cannibal."

"A cannibal?" Sarah laughed. "I'm definitely not a cannibal. Where did that come from?"

"Blame it on too much free time on my hands lately."

"Let me guess: too many books and comics? Before you ask, yes, it was Bryce who told me. He and Jill say you have an awesome collection."

"Theirs is not bad either."

"I know."

"You read comic books?"

"Not much, but I do dabble occasionally. I was always particularly fond of Carl Barks' work, as well as European comics, like the Smurfs, Lucky Luke and Iznogoud."

"Ah, you've got pretty eclectic tastes, I see."

"Yeah," she replied flippantly. She felt safe in divulging this harmless piece of information. If anything, it helped build upon the rapport she had already established with Chuck. She was also very comfortable around him. She supposed it was the positive bias towards him that had been instilled in her.

A little while later, Chuck signaled the waiter for the check. "I've got this," he told her.

"Chuck, you paid for lunch."

"Lunch? Come on, it was nothing."

"Still, we should at least split the bill. I know with the recent medical expenses and making eleven dollars an hour at the Buy More you're in a bit of a tight spot financially."

"Maybe, but my new job pays very well. You should know, you offered it to me after all. Oh, and I was making eleven dollars an hour when the Buy More was my summer job during high school and college. I'm making thirteen dollars an hour now. Besides, one of the things my dad taught me is to never let a lady pay when I take her out on a date."

"This is not a date," she began, but he interrupted her.

"It's a business date," he stated definitively. "This place is not expensive either."

"Fine, whatever," she said finally, not being in a mood to argue any longer. She stayed quiet as he took care of the check and then they went to her car. "I'll drive you home," she declared.

"Home doesn't appeal to me much right now," he replied. "The night is still young and I don't want to be cooped up inside, with only my library, the TV and the Internet to keep me company. Ellie doesn't even allow me to play my favorite games."

"What do you suggest we do, then?"

"There's this club not far from here. You can leave the car where it is and we can walk. Trust me. You're gonna love the place."

She bit her lower lip in thought, something Chuck found adorable. "I suppose the least I can do as a thank you for making my life easier is buy you a virgin drink," she said.

"Excuse me, a _virgin_ drink?"

"You've already had two beers. I think we should play it safe and not take any chances. I'd hate for our business arrangement to be ruined because of a sudden relapse."

"There's no way I can win this is there?"

"No, there isn't," she replied smugly.

"You know, right now you sounded just like Ellie."

"She and I both do have a vested interest in keeping you safe and healthy. Admittedly, we each have different reasons, but the means to the end are the same." They began walking towards the club Chuck had mentioned.

"Can I ask you another question? It's kind of personal, though."

"You can ask, but I can't promise to answer it."

"What kind of music do you like? What's your favorite band?"

"Um, I, uh…"

"Don't tell me you don't have a favorite band!"

"I'm a disappointment, aren't I? I'm not funny, I don't have a favorite band and…"

"Never mind about it. All that matters is we're both going to have a great time tonight."

Sarah had to admit it: Chuck had been right. The club was very nice. It wasn't too crowded, nor too loud and both the band and the DJ playing there were good. She told him to find them a table while she took care of the drinks. She rejoined him soon, noting with satisfaction the out of the way location of their table. They could talk without any risk of being overheard.

"Here you go, Chuck, one nice fruit cocktail."

"Thanks. What are you having?"

"One of my favorites: Southern Comfort," she replied. "Cheers."

"To a successful venture," he toasted her back. They clinked glasses and drank. "This isn't bad, you know, although it would be a lot better with a little rum in it."

"Stop right there, mister," she cautioned him. "You don't want to push your luck."

"What, are you going to rat me out to Ellie?"

"Maybe," she said, looking very serious.

"Then she won't let me leave town for at least two weeks, which kind of throws a wrench in the works as far as our, ahem, project is concerned."

"Damn, I think you are right. It certainly fits with what I've heard from Bryce and Jill about your sister."

"Ellie can be really overprotective of people she cares about. I'm pretty sure she'll insist on meeting you before we fly out East."

"Why would she want to meet me?"

"She's not going to ask more than perfunctory questions about the job," he reassured her. "But she'll want to give you a rundown on the dos and don'ts about me, placing special emphasis on the need to avoid putting me under stress."

"Um, do you think it'll help?"

"Definitely," he replied. "This way she's not going to worry overmuch about me while I'm away."

"Okay then. It's settled. I'll meet her if she wants to."

"Fantastic. And if I know my sister, she is going to tell me to invite you for dinner tomorrow."

"Great. I'll call my boss and tell him to arrange our trip to DC for the day after tomorrow. I'll also bring dessert." She smiled. "I won't profess to being anywhere near as good as your sister in the kitchen, but I do make a mean chocolate soufflé. Before you ask, both Bryce and Jill sang praises for her cooking skills."

"Then I'll ask her to make something to take to them."

"Chuck..."

"I'll pass it off as me going to visit my friends when I get some free time from the job," he explained and winked meaningfully at her. "I won't compromise the cover."

"Good," she conceded.

At that moment, things went south. Among the club's patrons, two parties sitting at nearby tables got in a heated argument. So heated in fact, that before anyone knew it, the argument escalated into a fight. One man shoved another, who lost his footing and fell on the floor right next to Chuck. Being a nice guy, Chuck moved to help him up, oblivious to what was happening, since the music had been loud enough to drown out the sounds of the disagreement that had led to the fight. Another man, thinking Chuck was about to get involved in the fracas, grabbed Chuck by the shirt, but Chuck managed to free himself from the man's grasp quite easily, which somewhat surprised Sarah.

He tried to explain that he didn't want any part of this, but then had to duck as the man attempted to punch him. Just then, someone crashed into his and Sarah's table. She was already on her feet and grabbed Chuck's arm, trying to lead him to the nearest exit, while he was trying to shield her with his own body. Two burly guys blocked their way and their intentions were clearly hostile and talking to them wouldn't help. Of course, they didn't count on Sarah and her superb martial arts skills. She decked one before he could even blink with a combination of a punch to the kidney and a superbly executed leg sweep. She was taking down the second man, when a third came to his friends' assistance and drew a knife. Chuck reacted swiftly, grabbing a beer bottle off a table and smashing it on the man's head.

The coast was now clear and Sarah once again grabbed Chuck's hand and led him out, fast. They didn't stop running until they were well clear of the club.

"That was unexpected," Chuck panted.

"Tell me about it. But you handled yourself pretty well in there. I didn't know you could fight."

"Actually, I dropped out of kung-fu classes at third grade, but Devon and Bryce taught me some basic judo moves," he admitted. "You, however, are obviously well trained in martial arts."

"Goes with the territory," she shrugged. "Come on, let's go get the car before the place starts crawling with cops. It can get awkward, considering I am armed."

"Why worry? You are a federal agent."

"True, but I don't like to advertise my presence and my boss wouldn't like it either. Plus, it can compromise your cover."

She definitely had a point and he agreed wholeheartedly. "Let's get out of here then, what are we waiting for?"

As they drove away, Chuck expressed disappointment at the rude interruption of their good time and she agreed. She had been thoroughly enjoying herself. So, in order to make it up to her, he suggested going to the beach near Santa Monica Pier for ice cream. Having nothing better to do, she agreed and soon they were sitting on the sand, savoring the treats they got from an ice cream truck. According to Chuck, this place was where he liked to go to when he needed to think or just clear his head.

"The ice cream was very good," she said at one point.

"Yes, the truck we got them from is a traditional family business. The current owner is third or fourth generation, I think. We'd been buying from his father when I was a kid."

"Let's get you home, Chuck, it's getting kind of late," she said.

"Yeah, we had a full day," he smiled, stood up and offered her a hand to help her get up. She picked up her boots and took it. He effortlessly pulled her up and they walked back to her car, arm in arm, without even realizing it. It just felt right to both of them.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Another update finished on time. Believe it or not, two thirds of it was typed up in just the last two days, with me writing "in a desperate panic and in a caffeine fueled haze"... The procrastination I mentioned in my last note, you know.

Anyway, I hope you like it as much as the previous chapters. The fun stuff will start next week. Until then, I wish you all happy holidays.

* * *

Chuck barely had the time to close the door behind him and dump his keys in the bowl when he was set upon by Ellie and Morgan.

"Where the hell have you been, Chuck?" Ellie demanded. "I was worried sick! I even called Morgan! Can you believe it? MORGAN!"

"She was this close to start calling the hospitals, dude," Morgan added.

"Didn't you try calling me?"

"You didn't pick up!"

He fished the phone out of his pocket. "Oops. I had it on silent. There are a few missed calls from you and Morgan. Sorry."

"Be more careful next time."

Just then he remembered something. "Didn't you read the note?"

"What note?" Ellie and Morgan asked in unison.

"After Sarah drove me here from her office, I thought it might be a good idea to invite her for dinner with us, you know, as a thank you for offering me a nice job, which I accepted, by the way, but you and Devon were already at the hospital, as you said in your note. So, I wrote you a note of my own and took Sarah to the Desperado. Afterwards, we went for drinks at a club and then had ice cream at the beach. As it turned out, she was just as happy as I was, because she'll get a pat on the back from her boss for her success." He paused and looked around, crossing the living room and heading into the kitchen, searching for something on the floor. "Aha! Here, take a look."

"Your note?" Ellie asked.

"What else?"

"Sorry, little brother."

"Tell us more, bro," Morgan urged him.

"There is not much to tell, really. Sarah had me sign a whole stack of confidentiality agreements, so I can't reveal anything job related. But I did invite her here for dinner tomorrow. I thought you might want to meet her, Ellie."

"Dinner? Tomorrow? Here? With the girl that offered you your new job? No problem. I've got this."

Chuck pulled her and Morgan into a big hug.

"Group hug?" Devon said, coming into the living room. "Awesome." He hugged his girlfriend and his friends, then demanding to know how the thing Morgan had mentioned about Chuck getting an offer for a new job had gone down.

-o-

Sarah dumped her handbag by the bed, took off her boots and plopped down in one of the sinfully comfortable chairs by the window. Retrieving her laptop from where she'd stashed it, she turned it on and put in a Skype chat request, hoping Bryce would still be awake.

As it turned out, he was. "Hey Sarah! How are things in sunny California?"

"Sunny," she replied. "I met your buddy today and offered him the job. He accepted."

"Did he now?"

"Yes. By the way, neither you nor Jill did him justice when you talked to me about him. He's, well, the perfect gentleman, real old school. He even invited me to dinner with his sister at his apartment tomorrow."

"Damn, I'm so jealous right now," Jill butted in on the conversation.

"Why's that?"

"Just prepare for your taste buds to be sent to gourmet heaven," Bryce supplied.

"Chuck did say something about getting his sister to whip up something to take with him to DC for the two of you."

"That's our Chuck," Jill smiled.

"Yeah… he was pretty shocked to learn about you two working with me, too."

"Can't say I blame him. I bet he's got like a million questions to ask us."

"He may have mentioned something along those lines," Sarah said with a smile.

"Did you tell Graham about…?"

"Called him right after Chuck said yes," she replied. "He's pretty happy with the development, as you might have guessed."

"Figures he would. Take care, OK?"

"Sure. Goodnight you two."

"Goodnight Sarah," Bryce and Jill wished her. She waved at them and signed off. Placing the laptop on the nightstand, she moved to the small closet where she'd put her luggage and pulled out her sleepwear, quickly changing into sleep shorts and a spaghetti strap sleeveless top. She had stayed out a bit late, but to her it had totally been worth it. She pulled her personal phone from its hiding place, got under the covers and turned it on. Finding the photo albums, she opened one and scrolled through the pictures of her with the baby girl she'd rescued in Budapest. They had only spent a few days together, but they'd bonded on a level the hardened agent could never have foreseen. The last few pictures were of her, her mother and of course Molly. Seeing the photos brought a smile on Sarah's face. Maybe making sure the little girl would have a good life was her way of atoning for the more unsavory things she'd had to do as a field agent. Sarah sighed, turned off the phone, returned it to its hiding place and went to sleep with a small smile on her face.

-o-

Chuck decided to read a little before sleeping, so he pulled one of his favorite novels from a bookshelf and took it to bed with him. It was At Dusk We Die, one of Richard Castle's works. He, Ellie and Devon were all big time fans of the writer and had never missed a signing every time the New Yorker had been to LA. He went through a few chapters and then, as the text became blurry, set the book down on the nightstand and promptly fell asleep. Since he didn't have to go to work in the morning, he didn't bother setting the alarm clock. Ellie would definitely come and wake him up at a reasonable hour.

Sure enough, she came to kick him out of bed at ten thirty in the morning. She knew he liked to sleep in when he didn't have to work early if at all, so she let him get some much needed rest.

"Morning sis," he yawned.

"Get your ass out of bed, we have a lot to do."

"Define a lot, please."

"You, little brother, will go to the grocery store. I don't have the time, since I have to go to the hospital for a half shift, but from what you told me your guest..."

"Sarah," he supplied, interrupting her.

"Sarah is not a picky eater, correct?"

"Correct. She said she'll be okay with anything you make. By the way, she said she'll bring dessert. She mentioned something about being good at making a chocolate soufflé."

"A chocolate soufflé sounds good to me," Ellie agreed. "It goes with pretty much everything. What time did you tell her to be here?"

"We kind of left this open. I had to find out when you could make it."

"Call her and tell her to be here at seven or thereabouts."

"Seven sounds good. I'll send her a quick text."

"Excellent. Now go take a shower, get dressed, come grab a bite and then I'll give you the shopping list I've written."

"Bossy much?" Chuck teased her.

"Shut up," Ellie shot back. "I've also written exactly where you can get the stuff."

"Ellie, of all people, you should know by now that I know where you like to shop for groceries."

"And my experience has taught me to never trust men like you or Devon with important household stuff," she retorted.

"How much longer are you going to keep bringing up _that_ incident?" Chuck asked, referring to a SNAFU of his and Devon's from when Ellie had sent them shopping in preparation for an important dinner with some people from the hospital administration. "It's been over two years."

"This is very important, Chuck." Ellie spoke slowly, as if addressing a child, but she had to get her point into her brother's thick skull. "We have to make a good impression."

"Just in case you forgot, I already got the job."

"All the more reason to impress this Sarah," she said to his retreating back as he went to the bathroom for a quick shower. "And tidy up in here! Your room has become a pig sty again!"

"Nerd Sty," he corrected her over his shoulder. He didn't blame her. Ellie always defaulted into her neat freak mode every time they had guests coming over.

-o-

While Chuck was doing the necessary shopping from the stores Ellie had specified, Sarah was doing the exact same thing, only in a different part of town. After all, she needed the ingredients for her soufflé. She had just exited the supermarket, having first bought some more stuff at a farmer's market, when something caught her eye in a little store across the street. It was a small boutique and a sleeveless dark purple top with frilly straps and neckline displayed at the window seemed to be calling her name. Without hesitation, she went in and fortunately they had one her size. She decided she was going to wear it when she went to Chuck's for dinner. As she deposited her purchases in her car, she realized she had a small problem: her hotel room did not have a kitchen.

_Desperate times call for desperate measures,_ she thought, got in and drove, taking a roundabout route to her new destination and making sure she wasn't being tailed. Maybe she was acting paranoid, but she didn't want to take any chances. The stakes were just too high.

Eventually, she parked near a house in Burbank, not far from Echo Park. Picking up her grocery bags, she marched to the front door and knocked.

"Who is it?"

"Mom, it's me."

Emma opened the door and looked at her daughter in surprise. "What's the matter, sweetie?"

"I know you weren't expecting to see me so soon, but it's not an emergency. Well, actually it is, but it's not about you and Molly."

"Come inside and tell me everything."

"Someone, um, a friend, has invited me to dinner tonight and I made a spur of the moment decision to bring dessert." She held up her shopping bags. "I got what I need to make it, but my hotel room does not have a kitchen, so I was wondering if I can borrow yours."

"Knock yourself out," Emma said accommodatingly. "But you'll also have to clean up the mess afterwards."

"What mess?" Sarah asked innocently.

"I know you well, kiddo. You always made a mess while cooking."

Just then someone else, or rather two someones, joined them. "Honey, she's been changed, entertained and now she's tuckered out. I'm putting her to bed."

"DAD?"

"Oh, hey baby."

"Dad, I'm not a baby any more."

"When are you going to learn? You'll always be my little girl. Even now that we have this little one here."

"OK, what's going on here?"

"The short version?" Emma asked, but didn't wait for an answer before she plowed on. "Your father and I are giving it another shot. So far he's been a great help with Molly. She likes him very much, too."

"Oh," was all Sarah could manage.

"Your Mom also told me everything about how she ended up with the Munchkin. It was a big shock to the system, but it only made me more determined to help as much as I can," Jack added.

"I see." Tears welled up in her eyes as she stepped forward and pulled her parents into a big hug. "Thank you. This means a lot, not only to me, but to her as well," she said, nodding in the direction of the sleeping baby girl. "She'll have the life she deserves with two loving parents."

"You are welcome, Sarah," Emma said, her voice thick with emotion. Jack just hugged them both a little tighter.

"Mom, Dad, I have something else to tell you."

"We're listening," her parents said.

"Just to be on the safe side, I told my partner about Molly. Call it an extra security blanket. He and his girlfriend are my friends, I trust them with my life and they promised to help if we need them to. I'm currently on an assignment I can't talk about, but it's worth it taking the time to fill you in on Bryce and Jill." She sat down on the couch and pulled out her phone. "I'm going to show you their pictures, so you'll know them if they ever come find you."

"Thank you darling," Emma said. She definitely appreciated the efforts her daughter had made to make sure she and the baby stayed safe. "By the way, what are you going to be making? No, wait, let me guess. Just about the only dessert you are good at making is..."

"A chocolate soufflé," Jack supplied.

"You got me," Sarah laughed. "May I?"

"Off to the kitchen, you."

"I'll leave some for you to bake any time you like, Mom."

"Too bad your little sister can't try it yet," Jack mused.

"She will," Sarah replied offhandedly as she took her stuff to the kitchen. "Some day she will." True to form, Sarah did make a small mess in Emma's kitchen, but in the end she had a delicious looking finished dessert. Just before bidding her parents and sister goodbye, she went to the bathroom, where she took care of her makeup and changed into her new top. Her dark jeans were fine and the top matched them really well. Having bought it turned out to be very fortunate as, despite wearing an apron, Sarah had somehow managed to get some stains on her t-shirt.

"When are we going to see you again, Sarah?" Emma asked as she tried valiantly to hold back tears.

"I don't know for sure, Mom. I'll have to go out of the country for a while."

"Take care," Jack told her. "We'll all be here waiting for you."

"I'm gonna miss you all." She touched the tip of her nose against Molly's, who squealed happily and made a grab for her big sister with her tiny little hands, making Sarah laugh as well. She missed Sarah's nose, but got a handful of her blond locks and tugged, though not hard enough to hurt. Sarah got a kiss on each cheek from her parents and went on her way.

"We'll see her soon," Jack said comfortingly to his wife.

"You think?"

"I know. She won't be able to stay away from our family."

-o-

Sarah made it to Chuck's on time and knocked on the door. A green eyed brunette answered it. "Hello, you must be Ms. Walker."

"Please, call me Sarah, Dr. Bartowski."

"It's Ellie. Come on in."

"Thanks. I brought you this." She held up the soufflé. Where can I put it?"

"Oh just leave it on the kitchen counter." Ellie then took Sarah by the arm, leading her to the living room and introducing her to Devon. Chuck was all smiles as he greeted her and so was Morgan, who'd dropped by to return the video camera he'd borrowed from his best friend a few days ago. In a flash of inspiration, Ellie invited him to stay for dinner as well. She knew how much the short fellow cared about Chuck, so he'd back her up when she reminded the blonde not to push her brother too hard on his new job.

"So, Sarah," Ellie began while they were at the table. "You seem to know a lot about us."

"Well, a lot of what I know came straight from Chuck during our conversations. I must say I'm impressed with the support system he has in place. And surely you must be worried about him, since we'll have to fly back east and he'll be away from you, especially since I understand he hasn't yet recovered fully from his recent illness. Let me assure you, I'll do everything possible to make sure he gets back in better shape than he left."

"That's all I can ask of you, Sarah. Thank you," Ellie said.

"Personally, given how much you've learned about us, I'd like to know a few things about you, Sarah," Morgan piped up.

"It's only fair," Sarah agreed.

"For starters, tell us where you're from," Ellie kicked off the questioning.

"OK. I'm basically a Californian, like you guys, but I've traveled all over the country since I was ten. Curerntly, I'm based in DC."

"I suppose you meet many interesting people working in Human Resources Management," Devon mused.

"Actually, my main field is security," Sarah admitted, not wanting the others to realize she knew very little about HRM. "But I have to dabble in HR occasionally. For example, my boss often assigns the vetting of prospective employees to me, Chuck here being a case in point. Of course, I was also assigned to contact him with the job offer, which he accepted."

"What is he going to be doing for you?"

"Unfortunately, I can't give an answer, Ellie and neither can he. Given how fierce the competition is, we can't afford to have our moves revealed before their due time. Chuck understands."

"Sure I do. Remember, sis, I told you I had to sign confidentiality agreements, even more than when I first got to work for RI. Don't worry, though. I'll keep in touch."

"Which brings us to the next subject," Sarah said. "I finalized the arrangements for our flight to DC. We are leaving tomorrow at noon."

"Fine by me," Chuck said. "Oh, before I forget, what do I need to pack?"

"A Nerd like you can surely look up the weather for the next few days," Sarah said cheekily. "But you should also pack some warm clothes in case we have to travel abroad."

"Goody. Do you think we'll get to visit Paris? I always wanted to go there."

"Honestly, at this stage, I don't have a clue," Sarah said. "But we may have to go there. It all depends on whatever we'll need to do."

Chuck then turned to his sister. "Ellie, since I'll be going to DC first, I'd like to visit Bryce and Jill. Do you think you can whip up something delicious for them? They've missed your cooking."

"Sure I can, but by necessity I won't be able to make much, since you'll have to take everything through airport security."

"Don't worry about that," Sarah said. "We'll be taking a company jet, not a commercial flight. There will be no hassle with airport security, so you can make anything you feel like. I do think, however, that it will be delicious, like everything you've made tonight. Chuck wasn't exaggerating when he practically sang praises for your culinary prowess."

"Thank you Sarah."

"It's the truth," Sarah said simply. "And I must say it, seeing how excited Chuck was about seeing his friends in DC again, plus taking stuff to them, was quite impressive."

"He hasn't seen them for a while, as they were busy and all, but they are good friends. They've all known each other since their freshman year in Stanford. Bryce works in banking and insurance, while Jill has a job with the CDC, occasionally liaising with major pharmaceutical companies," Ellie attempted to fill Sarah in on Chuck's friends. He and Sarah were thinking the exact same thing: If Ellie only knew...

"Time for coffee and dessert," Devon announced. "Chuckster, give me a hand with the dishes please."

"Sure thing, Captain."

"I'll give you a hand too," Morgan offered.

"And I'll get the coffee going," Ellie added. "Decaf for Chuck, of course."

"Ellie, I think I deserve a cup of real joe," Chuck protested and Ellie finally gave in to his puppy dog look, but only grudgingly.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Sarah inquired. "I can cut the soufflé."

"Sure. Morgan, please show Sarah where the knives and plates are."

"You got it, Ellie."

They all agreed Sarah's soufflé was delicious and she couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. For the rest of the evening, they talked about anything and everything, until the time came for Sarah to retire to her hotel.

"Chuck, I'll pick you up here tomorrow at eleven or so. Ellie, Devon, it was a pleasure. Morgan, it was nice seeing you again."

"Look us up whenever you happen to be in town," Ellie said warmly and instead of merely shaking Sarah's hand, she gave her a hug. "And thank you for making Chuck happier with this new job of his."

"I'm sure he's going to do very well. Goodnight everyone.

"Goodnight Sarah," they all said.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** Hello again and season's greetings to all. As promised, here is the newest chapter of the story. It's the least I can do for you, considering your highly motivating support, which words are not enough to thank you for.

* * *

When Sarah came to pick up Chuck and drive to the airport for their flight to DC, she found him ready and waiting for her. To her, he looked good in his jeans and shirt with the sleeves rolled up, his messenger bag slung casually over one shoulder. But what caught her eye next was his luggage. To his right he had a suitcase and a duffel bag. To his left, however, a big box was placed on the rim of the fountain.

"Jeez, Chuck, what's in the box?"

"Ellie went a little overboard on making stuff for me to take to my friends in DC."

"Get your stuff over to the car. We'll talk on the way to the airport." Soon, everything was stowed away in Sarah's Porsche and they were off. "Now tell me what's in there," Sarah said.

"Well, I can't remember exactly what she put in there, but she filled it with a whole lot of disposable, microwave friendly containers. She even wrote instructions on what items need heating up, cooking or whatever."

"Oh, OK."

"Sounds weird, right? But once you get to know Ellie, it's all normal."

"To me it seems she wants to do you every favor she can."

"Because of…?"

"Partly, yes," Sarah nodded, not taking her eyes off the road.

"You forgot one thing."

She realized what he meant. "She didn't do it just for you. She also did it for Bryce and Jill."

"Exactly," he agreed. "She has also packed some stuff for you as well, by the way." He noticed her questioning look, so he was quick to supply an explanation. "She said you'll certainly be tired after all the traveling and so on, so as a thank you for giving me the job, she decided to keep you fed and happy."

"I really appreciate it. But I don't think she'd be thanking me if she knew the truth."

"Probably not. In all likelihood, she'd be chasing us to skin us alive with a potato peeler… or one of the scariest surgical implements she could find at Westside Medical." They both shared a good laugh over it.

Finally, they reached the airport. "Here we are," Sarah said.

"Um, this is the short term parking structure. Shouldn't you go for long term parking?"

"Someone will be picking my baby up for me," she replied. Indeed, she had made the necessary arrangements with her father. She was satisfied with Chuck's observation skills, too. It was definitely going to make her and the team's job a whole lot easier.

"You have everything planned, I see."

"Goes with the job," she shrugged. "Speaking of which, give me everything that identifies you as Chuck Bartowski."

He handed over his ID, driver's license, passport, ATM card and credit cards. "That's all."

"Your phone, too."

"Should I turn it off first?"

"Leave it on in case Ellie calls. Remember, she and everyone else here thinks that you just got a normal job. I'll hang on to it for you, though."

"Okie-dokie." For good measure, he rifled through his pockets and double-checked his wallet to see if he'd forgotten anything.

"Take these. As of now, you are Charles Carmichael." She gave him the various items of his new persona.

"I feel like Harry Tasker becoming Harry Renquist."

"Uh, excuse me?"

"Arnold Schwarzenegger's character in True Lies?" He got no reply and he looked at her almost as if she'd grown a second head. "Seriously? You've never seen that movie?"

"No?" The reply was almost hesitant on her part.

"Damn, Bryce and Jill are going to get an earful, especially Bryce. What kind of friends and partners are they when they don't take the time to introduce you to some of Hollywood's finest spy comedies?"

Sarah almost laughed at his rant. "Come on, our plane awaits," she said instead. Since they were taking a private aircraft, they did not have to contend with the hassle of a commercial flight. An electric cart was placed in their disposal and Sarah drove it to the apron where a Gulfstream executive jet sat waiting, fully fueled.

"You travel nice," Chuck remarked.

"I take as much comfort as possible any chance I get," she admitted. "It kind of makes up for all the times I had to use far less comfortable means of air travel."

"No kidding," he blurted out when he saw the luxuriously appointed interior of the jet. His gaze was drawn to a huge flat screen taking up most of the starboard side of one bulkhead. "Hey, my Dad designed this!"

"He did?"

"Yeah, he's this great engineer, working on commission or freelancing and patenting his own designs. He makes a nice profit from the royalties on them. What am I saying? You probably know all this already."

"I do," she nodded.

"Do you get Netflix on this?"

"Not sure, why are you asking?"

"Sarah, I'm a firm believer in striking when the iron is hot. Therefore, since we have the time, I'll remedy a serious omission in your popular culture education."

"Is the movie as good as you claim it to be?"

"Trust me, you're gonna love it."

"Fine. In that case, I'll take care of the refreshments, but for now take a seat and buckle up."

Take-off was smooth and as soon as the pilot turned off the fasten seatbelts light, Chuck began fiddling with the TV remote. As he had hoped, the system had Netflix, so it didn't take him long to find True Lies. Meanwhile, Sarah went to the small galley and threw two bags of popcorn in the microwave. The wet bar was also well stocked with refreshments, so she went to get them each a soda.

"Ah, there you are," Chuck said as he spied her exiting the galley. "Smells good."

"Luckily, there was popcorn in the pantry. And I know for a fact that the bar is always stocked, so there is definitely soda in there."

"Make yourself comfortable and prepare to enjoy the flight."

"Sure." She put the large bowl of popcorn and placed the soda cans and glasses on the table. Then she placed her holstered sidearm on a table, kicked off her boots and sat down next to Chuck on the comfortable two-seater couch.

"Ready?"

"Ready," she confirmed. Chuck hit play and the movie began playing on the screen.

"What do you think of the movie so far?" Chuck asked her when they decided to take a bathroom break.

"Honestly, I'm enjoying it very much. If anything, it's far better than the movie I watched on the flight to LA."

"And what was that?"

"Slumber Party Zombies," she replied.

"Typical B-movie," he nodded. "But not too bad either. If one doesn't have high expectations and just wants to relax, it's watchable."

"It had its moments," Sarah agreed and went to the lavatory. When she was done, it was Chuck's turn. He hurried up and rejoined her for the rest of the movie. He hit the play button and got back to having fun watching the antics of Arnold Scharzenegger and Jamie Lee Curtis. At one point, specifically when Arnie was taking off in the AV-8B Harrier, Sarah snorted.

"What?" Chuck asked.

"Nothing."

"Please, tell me."

"He wasted way too much fuel taking off vertically like that. Me, I'd have turned the nozzles halfway down and performed a short rolling takeoff."

"You can fly these things?" Chuck looked at her with even more respect.

"I am a certified pilot and although I'm not Harrier qualified, I was given a ride on a two seater once. The Marine instructor flying with me even let me take the controls and taught me how to take off in this thing. But there is this guy on our team, you'll meet him soon, who has actually flown operationally in these deathtraps."

"Wow."

"Enough talking. Let's enjoy the rest of the movie."

The movie finally over, Sarah admitted that she had found it very entertaining. And since they still had a little more than two hours before landing at Ronald Reagan International, she declared she was going to get some sleep and advised Chuck to do the same. First, she consulted with the pilot and set her phone's alarm to wake her up before landing. Then, she and Chuck each took one of the comfortable couches and soon both were sound asleep.

-o-

"Chuck," Sarah said, shaking his shoulder. "Wake up. We're landing in twenty minutes."

"I'm up," he replied and yawned. "Also, I'd kill for some coffee."

"Be patient. I got a text from my boss and he says accommodation for you has been arranged. We'll get you settled and then we'll revisit the subject of coffee."

Being a (covert) government flight and having special clearance, they didn't have to go through the usual hassle involving general aviation aircraft coming into the airport. After landing, a surprise awaited them at the terminal: They were greeted by none other than Jill Roberts.

"Jill!" Chuck exclaimed, hugging his old friend.

"Hi Chuck and welcome to DC." She eyed the box sitting on the luggage cart he was pushing along. "Is this what I think it is?"

"Yep, it's full of Ellie-goodies."

"Get a move on. I'm about to start drooling." She led them to an SUV waiting in an airport parking garage.

"Where are we going?"

"The Agency fixed you up with a nice little apartment in the same neighborhood where we live," Sarah replied.

"We?"

"Yes. My apartment is not far from Bryce and Jill's place."

"Oh. Then we can also drop off the stuff I brought for you and the others."

"All in due time, Chuck," Sarah said. "Jill, what did you hear from Graham?"

"He wants to formally brief Chuck, along with the rest of us, but not at Langley. Bryce's ankle is getting better, but he is still of rather limited mobility, so we thought we could do it at our place. Casey is also going to be there."

"Excuse me, who is Casey?" Chuck inquired.

"He's from the NSA and he'll be on the team. Chuck, this is the plan: I'll get you to your apartment, where you'll change and I hope you brought a suit..."

"Ellie wouldn't let me leave without suits," he assured Jill. "I want to make a good impression on your boss, too."

"Of course she wouldn't, especially if she thinks you're on an important business trip. As I was saying, Sarah will take you to our place when you're ready."

"Time is of the essence, as I've come to realize," Chuck agreed.

Not long later, they stopped in front of a nice apartment building.

"Here we are. I'll take you to your apartment," Sarah offered. "It's right next door to mine."

"Thanks. Just give me a second here." He moved to the trunk, took out his stuff and then opened Ellie's box of goodies. From it he extracted a smaller package labeled 'Sarah'. "This is for you," he said, handing it over.

"Remind me to call your sister and thank her for all her trouble."

"Don't mention it," he said on Ellie's behalf.

"Still," she insisted. Turning to Jill she confirmed that the brunette would be waiting for them at her place with Bryce and got the key to Chuck's apartment as well. "There are no inquisitive neighbors here, plus you won't have to worry about rent or anything else. To anyone concerned, you are often away on business, Mr. Carmichael." When they reached the fourth floor, she led him to apartment forty-six. "This one is yours. Mine is forty-four. While we are here, don't hesitate to come knocking if you need anything, OK?"

"Got it. Thanks Sarah."

"All part of the job," she smiled and opened the door. "What do you think of your new place?"

Chuck's eyes took in the small, but tastefully decorated apartment. It had a bedroom, bathroom, a small kitchen and a living room, plus a small storage room. "I believe it'll do just fine," he said seriously.

"OK. After we're done with the briefing, I'll take you grocery shopping, since I don't see anything for you in the stuff Ellie made."

"She says I'm a big boy and she has taught me to cook well enough to avoid food poisoning. And I'm not the one she hasn't seen in a long time," he laughed. "I'll go change."

"I'll wait here." Sarah already had a nice pantsuit on, so she didn't need to change.

"Make yourself comfortable. I won't be long."

Sarah quickly slipped into her own apartment to leave the package from Ellie in the kitchen, went back to Chuck's, sat down on the couch and crossed her long legs. While waiting, she glanced casually around the apartment. There was not much to see, as it was practically identical to hers. A few minutes later, she began to grow impatient. "Chuck? Are you OK in there?"

"Yeah, I'm just peachy," he yelled back. She then heard him utter a curse and something about a 'damn tie', so she went into the bedroom to see what was wrong. She found him fumbling with the blue and grey striped tie he was trying to put on.

"Here, let me," she said and took over, soon having the tie in a perfect Windsor knot. "You look good," she said, smoothing the tie with her hand.

"Thanks."

"Good to go?"

"Yep. Lead the way."

"Bryce and Jill live just down the block. We won't need to take my issued car."

Chuck thought about what she'd just said while on the way down. The Porsche she'd been driving in LA was her own private car, which in turn meant that she'd been telling the truth when she mentioned being from California. Somehow, he needed to learn more about the beautiful blond woman fate had sent into his life. He decided to keep his questions to himself for the moment and instead focused on his surroundings. The neighborhood was nice, and there was a convenience store and a liquor store within easy walking distance from his apartment. He also spotted a news stand and made a mental note to visit it as soon as his schedule allowed. After all, being a hardcore DC Comics fan he didn't want to miss the latest issue of Justice League.

Sarah's voice pulled him from his thoughts. "Chuck, we're here."

"Oh, OK."

Jill let them in when they knocked. At the sight of his best buddy, Bryce jumped up from the couch and hobbled as fast as he could to the door.

"Hey buddy," he said, enveloping Chuck in a bear hug. "You look good."

"Thanks man. You too. How's the ankle? Getting better?"

"Truthfully, yes, but I think I'm gonna miss this little sprain. I mean, I like to be able to move around, but being waited on hand and foot by a beautiful woman isn't bad either."

The two friends laughed and Jill lightly punched her boyfriend in the shoulder. "Men" she said to Sarah, faking exasperation. Inevitably, after berating Jill and Bryce for not having watched True Lies with Sarah, the conversation went to the latest computer game Chuck and Bryce wanted to get their greedy hands on, the girls ignoring them, preferring instead to make some coffee and talk about the latest job in hushed tones. Another knock on the door sent Jill to answer it. It was Graham, Casey and Beckman. Bryce and Chuck saw them enter and stood to greet them.

"Chuck," Sarah kicked off the introductions, "meet Director of Central Intelligence Langston Graham, NSA Director Brigadier General Diane Beckman and Major John Casey, who as I already mentioned will be part of the team."

"Ma'am, sirs," Chuck said respectfully.

"Nice to finally meet you, Mr. Bartowski," Graham said, shaking Chuck's hand. "Or should I say Carmichael?"

"Carmichael, or just Chuck, is fine, sir. Gotta keep to the cover."

"The resemblance with the mark is indeed uncanny," observed Casey.

"Definitely," General Beckman agreed. "I don't believe in luck, but I'll take it as a good omen."

"Let's get down to business," Graham said. "But first, I think I smell coffee."

"I'll get it, sir," Jill offered.

"Want any help?" Sarah volunteered.

"Thanks, but I can manage."

When everyone was seated and supplied with coffee, Graham kicked off the briefing. "Chuck, I believe Sarah has impressed the need for secrecy upon you and you have signed the necessary non-disclosure agreements."

"Yes sir. She has also said that I'll be taking the place of the mark, as you refer to him."

"Excellent. We don't yet know how long we'll have to keep up the charade, but it's vital that you keep playing the part of Hans Lichtenstein for as long as necessary."

"I understand lives are at stake as long as Herr Lichtenstein's criminal organization is active. I'll do everything you need me to, sir."

Ever since Bryce had been told about the Agency's intention to recruit Chuck, he'd been trying to figure out ways to get him out of it. In his opinion, involving an untrained civilian, even one as well-meaning as Chuck, was a recipe for disaster. Now was the time to throw a wrench in the proverbial works. "Sir, Ma'am, if I may," he began.

"What is it, Agent Larkin?" Beckman asked.

"I've known Chuck here for a long time. Therefore, I know that although he is fluent in Spanish and speaks passable French, he doesn't speak German."

"That might be a problem," Chuck said, suddenly realizing how big an issue not knowing German could be. "I mean, I'm familiar with Hogan's Heroes and Castle Wolfenstein, but that's about it. I can do a good German accent, though."

"Do it," Bryce encouraged him.

"Ve haf been vaiting for you, _mein freund_."

"He does sound like Colonel Klink," Casey remarked.

"This might be better: Put down zhe gun or zhe fraulein dies."

"Your Standartenfuhrer Vogel is better than your Oberst Klink," Bryce said. "It's from Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade," he explained to Sarah.

"Enough horsing around," Graham admonished his subordinates. "Bryce, you are right and I am well aware of the fact, since we have compiled a comprehensive dossier on your friend here. But it is nothing we can't overcome."

"Please explain, sir," Chuck said.

"To begin with, you not only have to look like Hans Lichtenstein, but you have to sound just like him as well. Fortunately, we have several recordings of his voice, so it's an easy matter to make a voice changing chip, which, when attached to your throat, will modify your vocal qualities to perfectly match his."

"It's so Mission Impossible! I like the idea already!" Chuck exclaimed enthusiastically.

"The chip will be disguised underneath a latex prosthesis that will mimic Lichtenstein's tracheotomy scar. As for language, it won't be as big a problem as Bryce here made it seem. You see, Lichtenstein is the head of an international criminal organization and as such English is the primary language spoken between him and his associates."

"Certainly, he'll still have to speak German, sir," Bryce reminded him. "The risk of blowing Chuck's cover remains."

"Again, it has been taken into account. Professor Fleming has been more than helpful on the matter."

A huge weight formed in the pit of Bryce's stomach. "Shit," he muttered. "You want to reactivate the Omaha Project."

"What's the Omaha Project?" Chuck, Sarah and Casey asked at the same instant.

"And what's Professor Fleming's involvement in all this?" Chuck added.

Graham held up a hand to stop the avalanche of questions. "I'll explain everything. Chuck, you have to acquire a working knowledge of the German language and also be versed in the basics of Lichtenstein's organization, or what we know of it anyway. The surest way to do this in the short time available to us is having the required knowledge implanted into your brain. This is where the Omaha Project comes in. It's about subliminal image retention and recognition. Needless to say, this is classified beyond top secret and only a very select group is privy to its very existence."

"Is it safe?" Sarah asked the pivotal question.

"For Chuck it is," Graham replied. "Fleming revealed his true score on the subliminal image test he took back in Stanford. It was 98%, not 72% as originally reported, on your behest, I might add, Bryce."

"What?" Chuck's head whipped around to look at his friend.

"I wanted to keep you out of it, Chuck," Bryce confessed. "You were going to be a software millionaire and I wasn't about to let the CIA ruin your life."

"Buddy, I appreciate that, but shouldn't you have left the final choice to me?"

"Um... I..."

"You two can discuss the matter later," Beckman spoke up. "Right now, we need to fill Mr. Bartowski, or Carmichael as he'll be referred to from now on, in the particularities of being Agent XX."

"Agent XX?" Chuck asked.

"The second agent to be operationally employed as part of the Omaha Project," Beckman explained. "The first one was codenamed Agent X."

TO BE CONTINUED

* * *

**P.S.: **Spot the Castle reference! Next update in 2014. ;)


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** Hello and Happy New Year to all! Like I promised, here is the latest installment. It's also a belated, by a couple of days, birthday present to Coreymon77.

Your continued support was a most excellent holiday gift for me. Thank you very, very much.

Enjoy!

* * *

"Let me get this straight," Chuck said. "You have something called the Omaha Project, which you can use to, um, upload stuff to people?"

"In a nutshell, yes," Graham confirmed. "Although, to be precise, the device itself is called the Intersect and it's a supercomputer that has many other functions."

"Can I see it?" Chuck asked expectantly, his excitement at the prospect of being around high-tech gear clearly visible.

"Mr. Carmichael, the answer is no. I am well aware of your fondness for electronics, but one has to jump through a lot of hoops to even get clearance to enter the building where the Intersect is housed."

"Huh… If I'll never get to see it, how on earth will you provide me with the necessary data?"

"There is also a portable device used for this purpose. Alternately, you can just sit in front of any computer screen while the upload program is run."

"And that's it?"

"That's it. By the time the upload is complete, you'll know everything we have on file about Lichtenstein's criminal empire and have acquired the ability to speak German, and not only that." Graham paused and looked at Chuck, Sarah, Bryce, Jill and Casey in turn. They were all paying attention to what he was saying and apparently they were curious to find out more. "You see, the latest version of the Intersect, the 2.0, has been designed to actually implant certain skills in the host's brain. In Chuck's case, we'll be giving him the ability to partake in winter sports, a favorite pastime of Lichtenstein's, enable him to exactly duplicate the mark's handwriting and… well, you can guess the rest."

"When our makeup specialists and the Intersect experts are done with you, you'll have become Hans Lichtenstein, Mr. Carmichael," General Beckman added.

"Are there any side effects?" Sarah, ever practical, brought the discussion back to how an Omaha Project subject might be affected.

"Be honest, sir," Bryce urged his boss.

"There were some. Were, as in past tense, and that was with one of the earlier versions, which was not as refined as the one we'll be using now. Agent X had the Intersect removed upon completing his assignment, but even before the removal he'd begun complaining of headaches, plus slight nausea and disorientation every time he used it to access the knowledge implanted into his brain. In addition, the Intersect caused some minor memory loss, which lasted until about a couple of months after the removal. But I repeat, we now have the technology and the expertise to avoid anything similar happening to Chuck. There is still a certain amount of risk, naturally, but our scientists agree that it's minimal and in any case the program will not stay in your head long enough for any symptoms to manifest themselves."

"What kind of time frame are we talking about here?"

"As I have reiterated, the only comparison can be made with the experience gained during the Agent X mission. In his case, the adverse effects began about six months after the upload. More advanced versions of the Intersect are considered to have increased this trouble free period to about a year. The current version is estimated to be good for approximately two years."

"But I won't be pretending to be Lichtenstein for two years."

"Correct. We estimate a few months on the outside. It should be enough to give us the full picture of his organization and enable us to take it down."

Casey then asked the logical question. "When is Carmichael going to have the upload?"

"That actually depends on the tech department," Beckman replied. "They have a team currently busy compiling every scrap of data on Lichtenstein Enterprises and encoding it into images compatible with the Intersect. In addition, another team is preparing the Lichtenstein-specific set of skills Mr. Carmichael here is going to need."

"According to the latest progress report, they should be done sometime in the next few days," Graham added.

"I see," Chuck said. "Won't I have anything to do in the meantime, like study the mark's file or something?"

"Why bother with it when you'll have it uploaded in one fell swoop?" Sarah countered.

"Insurance, I guess."

"Let me point out that if the upload doesn't work, we are going to have to scrap the mission, so it would be rather meaningless for you to study the file."

"Oh. Yes, you're absolutely right, Sarah."

Bryce decided to butt in on the conversation. "Buddy, you've been informed of what the job entails. You still have the option of getting out of it, if you feel the risks are too great. You'll just have to keep your mouth shut about everything you've heard in the past few days."

"Thanks for looking out for me, Bryce, but like Director Graham said, the risks are minimal compared to what we stand to gain. I'm in."

"Frankly, I was hoping you wouldn't back out," Graham said. "And I'd like to thank you for accepting."

"Rest assured we'll do everything to keep you safe for the duration of the mission and then we'll remove the Intersect and send you on your merry way, with a fat paycheck, of course," Beckman added.

"So, what do you need me to do next?" Chuck asked, addressing Graham and Beckman.

"For the moment, you can take the time to get settled in your apartment. Agent Walker will be liaising between you and the Agencies, but I can tell you that you'll have to attend additional briefings as well as test the voice changing chip."

"Just name the time and place," Chuck said accommodatingly.

"We'll let you know. I believe we have covered the basics, so we'll be leaving you to talk. Major Casey, I suggest you stay and get acquainted with your team mates," Beckman suggested.

"Yes ma'am."

Jill and Sarah saw the two directors to the door, and returned to their former seats. Chuck kicked off the conversation with a question: "How long have you guys had this assignment, or is it classified?"

"I can't speak for the others, Carmichael, but I just got assigned to it," Casey replied.

"Ditto for the three of us," Bryce said.

"Ah, yes… Sarah mentioned something about being the first to notice how similar the mark and I look… and I believe she was the one to tell you and Jill about it, right Bryce?"

"Uh-huh."

"Basically, we're starting with a clean slate," Jill said. "The team already assigned to the Lichtenstein affair will be assisting in establishing your cover and then we'll take over completely."

"Got it. By the way, what happens if I come across someone or something Lichtenstein is supposed to know, but for some reason is not in the Intersect? Your bosses admitted that the files are anything but complete."

"There are solutions," Casey replied. "The possibility has been considered and we have decided on a double-pronged approach."

"Which is…" Chuck prodded.

"You won't be going anywhere without a button cam and an earpiece. We'll be seeing and hearing everything you see and hear. A dedicated team of analysts will be on call 24/7, ready to run anything through the databases. For example, if you meet someone we don't know is affiliated with Lichtenstein in any capacity, but is in a database, we'll run them through the facial recognition software and let you know the results."

"Otherwise, you'll have to fake a memory gap. Don't worry. The doctors will tell you – as Hans Lichtenstein – and 'your' people about the possibility of some memory loss and behavioral changes due to the coma," Sarah added.

"You mentioned something about an allergy, Sarah."

"Indeed. As it turns out, Lichtenstein at one point became allergic to pistachios. At a party he was attending, he consumed enough to have a most severe allergic reaction."

"From what you are saying, he's lucky to be alive right now."

"He has no idea," Sarah said cheekily.

"But I'm not allergic to pistachios, only cats, even though I don't like pistachios."

"Lichtenstein doesn't like cats. To be convincing, you'll have to avoid tree nuts in general."

"Bah, I'll ask to take an allergy test, which will conveniently limit the precautions necessary to merely avoiding pistachios. I don't know about Lichtenstein, but I like walnuts and cashews."

"Peanuts too," Bryce piped up. "Chuck and I are serious about our beer nuts."

"Ah, good times," Chuck sighed longingly.

"It can be arranged," Jill said.

"Before we end this meeting, there is one more thing you need to know, Carmichael," Casey said.

"I'm listening."

"Ideally, we would be infiltrating one or two more people along with you, but, the way things are, we don't want the other side to get suspicious if too many new faces appear. Therefore, you'll be on your own, keeping in touch with us through the communication devices you'll be issued with."

"Just as long as I know that backup will be around the proverbial corner, I'll be fine," Chuck reassured the older man.

"Then everything is settled. You will be contacted for the next meeting. Ladies, gentlemen," Casey nodded politely to the four young people. Jill showed him out and returned to the living room, reclaiming her seat on the couch next to Bryce. She found him and Chuck locked in a staring contest, with Sarah looking on with curiosity.

"What's going on?"

The guys didn't reply. "I think Chuck's still a little pissed at Bryce for not letting him decide for himself back in Stanford," Sarah whispered in Jill's ear.

"He must be mad at me as well, but he knows who's got the lion's share of the responsibility," Jill whispered back.

Bryce cracked first under his friend's intense gaze. "Keep in mind I did everything I did because I didn't want the CIA to take you, the nicest guy I know, and turn you into a cold-hearted agent."

"What about you, Bryce? You seem to be doing just fine."

"I have Jill. She's been with me through thick and thin. She's my rock. You didn't have anyone to lean on at the time."

"I would have had my friends, had you let me make my own choices."

"Chuck, remember the Gotcha games we and the others played all over the campus?"

"How can I forget?"

"Would you be able to shoot real bullets at people instead of suction cup-tipped darts?" Bryce went straight for the kill. As he figured, he had nothing to lose. "Sarah and I had to kill in the line of duty. You're good at Gotcha, paintball and first person shooter games, but you have too much heart for this kind of work. Face it, you can't shoot someone in anything other than self defense. I know you well, buddy."

Predictably, Bryce's statement was very effective in making Chuck pause for thought.

Jill took over. "Even if Bryce had let Professor Fleming recruit you, I think you'd have failed a number of tests in spy school, exactly because you are such a nice guy. You'd take it hard too, we are sure of it. And instead of an agent, you might have found yourself in an analyst position and you wouldn't like it. Trust me."

"Or I could be designing hardware and software for the Agency, or even hacking as required," Chuck countered.

"Chuck," Sarah said softly, "It doesn't matter now. It's all in the past. What matters is that you have a new and very important job now and you need to focus on it. Can you do it?"

"Yes," he replied resolutely. "Yes, I can."

"Good, because it's going to be dangerous enough without adding tension between you and those two into the mix." She looked around to see everyone else nod their agreement. "Excellent. Now, let's leave Bryce and Jill to enjoy the goodies your sister made for them."

"It was nice seeing you in person again, guys," Chuck said getting up.

"You too, bro," Bryce said, hopping up on one leg and giving Chuck another bear hug. Jill also hugged him and gave him a double-cheek kiss.

-o-

"Where are you going?" Sarah asked, as Chuck headed for a pedestrian crossing.

"I'm just gonna get some groceries from the convenience store."

"Don't bother. I asked Ellie about what you like over dinner yesterday. You'll find your kitchen well stocked."

"You think of everything, don't you?"

"I try," she replied modestly.

"Then we'll make a stop at the news stand, if you don't mind. I need some reading material."

"No problem," she said smoothly.

After the stop at the news stand, they went to their respective apartments. Sarah eagerly opened the package Ellie had sent her and followed the enclosed instructions, ending up with a delicious meal. Next door, Chuck changed out of his suit and into a t-shirt and jeans, whipped up something easy and quick, enjoyed it and then went to the balcony to read his new comic book in the shade provided by the awning.

He was halfway through it when he heard a shriek from Sarah's place. He immediately sprang into action, vaulting over the balcony divider, grabbing the first weapon he could find, in this case a mop, and burst into Sarah's apartment primed for action. It didn't occur to him that she was a trained agent, more than capable of defending herself. He found her sitting on her bed, trying to catch her breath and laughing at the same time.

"Sarah, what happened?"

"Chuck, what are you doing here?" Sarah gasped, trying to stop laughing.

"I heard you scream and..."

"I'm fine. I just saw this and it startled me." She pointed to a spot on the floor near the bed. He looked closely and saw a brown mouse, obviously a toy.

"You have a cat?"

"No, but Sydney next door does."

"Oh."

"Yeah, Ariana sometimes comes here to play. I don't mind, but she sometimes forgets her toys." As if on cue, a meow came from the balcony door and a bluish grey kitten with bright green eyes entered the room, heading straight for Sarah and rubbing against her legs, purring contentedly. Chuck sucked in a breath and pinched his nose. Sarah noticed it, picked up the toy mouse and gave it to the kitty. "Here you go, Ariana. Now, go home. My friend here is allergic to cats and you don't want to make him sneeze his head off, do you?"

"Meow," Ariana replied, happily picked up her toy and ran back to her own home, easily ducking under the balcony divider. Chuck finally let out a breath with a huff.

Sarah looked at him with amusement. "Now that I think of it, Ariana is a Russian Blue cat, a breed considered to be hypoallergenic. If your allergy is mild to moderate, there is a good chance you can tolerate her."

"Well, my allergy is mild," he informed her. "I should go back to my place now. Sorry for bursting in on you like this. I should have remembered you are more than capable of holding your own, but I reacted automatically."

"You are so sweet, Chuck," she said and then frowned as he began making his way towards the balcony. "Using the door might be a better idea."

"I know, but I don't have the key with me," he said sheepishly. After all, he'd had no way of knowing he was going to end up in her apartment.

"Fortunately, I have a spare," she grinned. "Follow me." She went to the living room and picked up her purse. She had a set of spare keys to Chuck's apartment inside.

"You have a spare," he repeated, giving her a strange look.

"One of my duties is providing security for you. Therefore, keys to your place are a required item to have on hand."

"But I'm not at risk yet, am I?"

"Just routine precautions," she said casually. "Right now even a hangnail is considered to be a threat to the mission."

"Oh boy… this sounds worse than Ellie. Does your boss want to wrap me in bubble wrap by any chance?"

"I believe it won't be necessary," she replied facetiously. It earned her a grin from Chuck. They went to his door and she opened it for him, before retrieving her set of keys and going back inside her apartment, first telling him that he was free for the rest of the day, but cautioned him to call her if we wanted to go anyplace other than the nearby stores or Bryce and Jill's place. Chuck promised to follow her instructions and went to the balcony to continue reading his comic book. On the way there he realized that he'd just learned something new about Sarah Walker: Despite her professional hardass demeanor, she was a warm and loving person, if her interaction with her neighbor's kitten was any indication.

He knew from the impromptu visit to her apartment that she had changed into more casual clothing, like the outfits she'd been wearing in LA. He frowned when he saw her in the street getting into a Lotus sports car and driving off. For a minute he wondered where she might be going, but decided it was none of his business. Besides, he had his comic book, premium cable TV and a nice computer with Internet to pass the time.

-o-

Sarah drove to the Walter Reed National Military Medical Center in Maryland. Her government credentials made passing through security a breeze and soon she was in one of the clinics, carrying a package she'd bought on the way there. She stopped outside one of the rooms in a secure recovery ward and knocked.

"Come in," a voice said from inside. Sarah entered and found two blond women inside. One was in bed, still looking pale. One of her arms was in a cast and her left leg was propped up and encased in a post-surgical brace. Sarah was relieved to see that the ugly bruises on the woman's face had mostly healed. She frowned when she recognized the other visitor.

"Rizzo," she said, looking at her with undisguised hostility.

"Walker," Rizzo replied, mirroring Sarah's look.

"Cut it out," the patient said weakly. Sarah and Rizzo were still glaring daggers at each other, so she raised her voice to get their attention. "HEY!"

"Amy, try to relax," Sarah said, warily looking at Rizzo out of the corner of her eye.

"How can I relax when my friends are this close to going for each other's throat? Sarah, it wasn't your fault and neither was Zondra's." She took a deep breath and tried to push herself more upright. "Sorry. They still have me on the good stuff and they are making me a little loopy." This got her a smile from both Sarah and Zondra.

"I brought you a selection of cookies from a nice bakery," Sarah said, hefting the box.

"Are you guys trying to fatten me up? First Carina and now the two of you... If I eat all the goodies you've brought I'll have to be in the gym 24/7 after I get out of here."

"You do need a little feeding up, Amy," Zondra said. It was true. Amy looked a lot skinnier than she normally was.

"Shut up. We've got bigger fish to fry and I'll start by setting the record straight. Carina told me everything that happened between you and Sarah. I'll only say one thing: I call bullshit on everything. And now I want you two to kiss and make up. I was serious when I said neither of you is to blame."

"But I found the bug in..." Sarah began.

"You did, but she passed the polygraph test and so did you. I guess you haven't been in touch with Carina, so you are missing critical information here."

"Such as...?" Zondra prompted.

Amy took another deep breath and pressed the button for the painkiller drip. "The good news is that the asshole missed my knee cap with the baseball bat, but he still tore a ligament and caused an avulsion fracture. The damage has been repaired, but it still hurts like a bitch. Can I get some water, please?" It gave Amy immense satisfaction to see the other two almost trip on each other in their haste to comply with the request. As she drank from the plastic cup, she saw them fidget impatiently. Good. She had their undivided attention. "While they were trying to 'convince' me to spill the beans, they also couldn't keep their mouths shut. They knew stuff about our operations against Gaez's cartel that none of us did. The mission was blown at a level higher than the four of us. Whoever is the leak made sure to cover their tracks by framing Zondra."

"Are you sure?" Sarah asked.

"Hey, I may be drugged half the time, but I still have my faculties, you know. I can give you the play-by-play later. Gimme a cookie." She took the proffered cookie and bit into it. "Yum. Now apologize to each other."

"Zondra... I... I didn't know," Sarah began hesitantly.

"Me neither. I thought you were the leak and trying to cover your tracks by framing me." The two impulsively hugged with Amy giving them an approving look.

Amy decided to lighten the mood even further. "How on earth can you guys be my friends when none of you didn't even think to bring me a magazine or a gossip rag?"

The other two looked at her incredulously and promised to bring her a whole stack of magazines ASAP.

As for Sarah, she felt relieved. Not only Amy was getting better, but she and Zondra could put the whole deal behind them. They would get some payback from whoever had ruined their Brazil operation later. Right now she could focus on the Lichtenstein affair without additional worries.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: **Hello again, everyone! I hope you had a great time during the holidays. This update was – again – finished on schedule, but I don't know if it'll show, given the recent recurrent glitches with the site. Oh well, not much (nothing really) I can do about it.

Once more, thank you all for your support and I hope you'll enjoy this chapter as much as the previous ones.

* * *

Sarah and Zondra literally bounced off each other as they attempted to reenter Amy's room carrying a stack of magazines they'd found in a news stand outside and the hospital gift shop respectively. The stack had everything: Cosmopolitan, Vogue, other fashion magazines, Sports Illustrated, TV Guide, a couple of comic books and a couple of paperback novels Sarah thought Amy might like, plus whatever gossip rags they could find.

"Wow," Amy said. "When you said a whole stack, I didn't realize you meant it literally."

"OK," Zondra said. "Let's divide up the loot. Sports magazines here, fashion stuff here, gossip rags here."

"And the more serious reading material goes here," Sarah said, leaving the novels and comics on the nightstand closest to Amy.

She picked a paperback up and read the title aloud: "Bred in the Bone… is it a horror novel?"

"Mystery," Sarah corrected. "It was written by Dr. Temperance Brennan."

"Why does the name sound familiar?" Zondra wondered.

"Her textbooks were used as part of the courses in forensics we all took, plus I had to chaperone her once while she was working under contract with the Company," Sarah informed the others.

Someone else joined the three just then. "Ah, I see we have a full house."

"Don't you ever knock?" Sarah complained.

"Is that how you say hi, kid?"

"Hi Carina," Sarah said in a saccharine voice, making the others chuckle. Still, she moved forward and hugged her tall, strawberry blond friend.

"I got good news and not so good news. Which do you want to hear first?" Carina asked.

"The bad news," Amy said.

"Our mission was blown from inside the CIA. Because it wasn't a joint op and I was officially on loan for the assignment, the DEA simply did not know a lot of the stuff Amy said Gaez's goons knew. And since we now know that both Sarah and Zondra are in the clear…"

"Graham is not going to like this," Zondra finished. "There must be many in the Agency who had either the whole story right there on their desks or enough to put two and two together."

"Well," Amy said, "no use beating ourselves over it. It's all in Internal Affairs' turf now." She looked at the wall-mounted clock. "It's still a while before visiting hours are over. Can you guys stay a little longer? Reading material or no reading material, I'll get bored too soon."

"Good thing I brought a deck of cards then," Carina deadpanned.

"Shall we make it a little more… interesting?" Zondra prompted.

"I'd say I'm in, but I'm rather short on cash right now," Amy replied.

"Don't sweat it. I'll just go to the vending machine down the hallway and get us a bag of Skittles each," Carina said and winked at the younger girl.

"Great idea!" Sarah enthused. "We'll all be sweetening the pot, pun intended."

"I heard about Hungary," Zondra said suddenly, halfway through a round of poker – one of many to be played before visiting hours were over.

"Yeah, well, I don't want to talk about that now," Sarah said. The girls were her friends, but she didn't want to tell anyone else about Molly. Except Carina, of course, and that only because she was in a unique position to help and she was also going to find out anyway, sooner or later. Amy had a long recovery ahead of her and although Zondra was trustworthy, Sarah didn't want to have to involve her, thinking it might be too much to ask of her at this stage.

"OK, but it still sucks for you. I only hope I'm the one who gets to Ryker first."

"You and everyone else who's had the chance to work with Sarah," Carina added.

"Thanks guys." She looked at her cards. It was a good hand, so she decided to risk it. In the end, she won the round.

When the head nurse came to finally kick Sarah, Carina and Zondra out, after first having succumbed twice to Amy's pleas to let her friends stay a little longer, the girls filled a plastic cup with the Skittles that had remained uneaten and left them for Amy.

-o-

"Premium cable my ass," Chuck grumbled after finding nothing worthwhile to watch and tossed the remote onto the coffee table, where it landed on a magazine he'd bought earlier. He was pondering on what to do to pass the time when he remembered that he had to call Ellie. Fortunately, Sarah had left a box with all the Bartowski stuff on a shelf in the study.

The call to Ellie and Devon was short and sweet: yes, he was fine; yes, his new employer had fixed him up with a nice apartment in a great neighborhood; yes, he'd had the chance to visit Bryce and Jill; yes, they sent their regards, etc, etc.

"Bryce," he thought. "That's it!" He ran back to his small study, where he snatched his Carmichael phone from the desk and speed-dialed Bryce.

He answered on the second ring. "Hey buddy."

"Are you busy right now?"

"Is anything wrong?"

"There's nothing good on cable and I was wondering if you wanna play something online."

"Sure. I made sure you have a wide selection of games installed in your computer. Just give me a few minutes to set up my rig. By the way, did you call Ellie?"

"I did. I told her you said hi."

"We're gonna have to work out a system to allow you to call her while we work abroad," Bryce said. He was being deliberately vague, but Chuck understood exactly what he was talking about.

"Between you, Jill, Sarah, Casey and myself, I'm sure we'll be able to work something out."

"Ha-ha, you got it. What would you like to play?"

"Um, I don't know. Do you think I can log in using my old account, or am I going to have to create a new one?"

"And give up all your saved points and credits? Don't sweat it and log in to your usual account."

"Shall we start with a little Call of Duty to warm up?"

"I was thinking Halo, but Call of Duty works just fine for me."

"So it's settled. We start with Call of Duty and move on to..."

"Whatever we get in the mood for," Bryce finished the sentence. "Who knows, if Morgan is online, maybe he'll join in."

-o-

While Chuck was having a blast playing games online, finally free from the prohibitions Ellie had imposed on him, Sarah was driving back with Carina in the passenger seat.

"You didn't say why you took the bus from Arlington to Bethesda, Carina."

"Blame it on the car shop. I left my ride there for its scheduled servicing, but they are apparently a little backlogged. They said they'll have it ready by tomorrow. What about you? Are you on leave or did you get a new assignment?"

"I can't talk about it."

"Huh. New assignment it is, then. Did they partner you up with Bryce again?"

There was no harm in telling Carina, as long as she didn't get into details. "Fortunately, yes, I'm back to working with Bryce. And, um, there is something else I want to talk to you about. Something happened during the Hungary mission and..."

"Sarah, I heard from the grapevine about it."

"You don't know all the details. You're going to find out next time you're in LA anyway, so I might just as well tell you now."

"Go ahead."

Sarah proceeded to tell Carina everything about Molly, and how her parents were taking care of the baby together. Privately, she was also enjoying Carina's slack jawed look as she told the story. "I've also told Bryce and Jill," Sarah concluded her narrative. "They are my partners and friends and they promised to help if I need them to."

"Well, that was a surprise," Carina admitted, finally collecting herself and managing to think rationally again. "LA has all the cultural panache of a porta-potty to me, but now you gave me a good reason to visit as often as I can. Your Mom's cooking is another incentive."

"Come on, Carina, you love my Dad just as much."

"Sure I do, especially since he used to spoil us rotten all the time. I'm pretty sure he'll do the same for Molly."

"He loves her already," Sarah confirmed. It pleased her to see Carina so happy after learning of the new developments concerning the Walker family. The two were very close, had been since Sarah was three and Carina seven years old and the Millers had moved next door. The girls had bonded like crazy and from then on had been like sisters, often referring to themselves as such, finding in each other the sibling they'd always wished for. And now they had a new one.

"Do you have pictures?"

"Look in the glove compartment. I have my private phone in there. You'll find pictures of Molly in the newest album."

Carina did as Sarah had instructed her and soon found the baby girl's pictures. "Awww... she's so cute! Next time I'm on leave, I'm heading straight for your Mom's."

-o-

The pizza parlor Bryce had recommended was indeed fantastic. Chuck threw away the empty box and, out of habit, browsed through the latest news on computer development, gadgets and so on. Sarah was still out, and he decided to watch some TV. Hopefully, he'd find something interesting to pass the time before calling it a night. His new team had mentioned something about him taking some tests in the morning to determine if he was still suitable for the planned Intersect upload. He thought it was a waste of time, since he was fairly certain that his subliminal image recognition and retention skills hadn't eroded over time, but Casey had insisted it was protocol and thus had to be done.

He woke up feeling refreshed after a good night's sleep. Of course, for Chuck refreshed didn't also mean wide awake. He needed a shower and a good cup of coffee to reach that level of alertness, so he started up the coffee machine and then went to the bathroom for a quick shower. Being in DC didn't necessarily mean that he would have to diverge significantly from his established routines, and after the shower he went to enjoy his coffee and take a look at the morning news.

He was almost done with his first cup when a thought hit him. "I'll have to ask someone about where and when I'm gonna take this test." Of course, the one person he could immediately go to for answers was Sarah, right next door. He put on his signature Chuck Taylors, remembered to grab his keys and made tracks for her place.

A lithe tall woman answered the door. "Hello?" Carina asked sleepily as she tightened the sash of her black silk robe.

"Um, hi... is Sarah in?"

"Yes, hang on." She turned in the direction of the bathroom. "SARAH! Someone is asking for you!"

"I'll just be a minute!" Sarah yelled back.

"Come in," Carina said, giving the visitor the once-over. "And you are..."

"Carmichael, Charles Carmichael," he replied, remembering to use his alias.

"Carina Miller," she introduced herself, shaking his hand. "Are you working with Sarah?"

He didn't know how to answer that, so he obfuscated. "I'm a contractor."

"Oh, hey Chuck," Sarah greeted him, coming into the living room dressed in a shirt and dress pants.

"Good morning Sarah. I came to ask when we'll be able to get done with the preliminaries you mentioned yesterday."

"It's still early," she said. "I'll come get you when it's time to go."

"OK. I'll be next door." He nodded politely at Carina. "See you later," he told Sarah.

"Spill," Carina commanded the second Chuck closed the door behind him.

"What?"

"Don't 'what' me, kiddo. Who is this Carmichael guy?"

"He's a contractor," Sarah replied off-handedly.

"Well, he is kind of cute-ish. I wouldn't mind giving him a contract of my own to work on."

"Then you're fresh out of luck. He won't have time for you," Sarah snapped. She didn't mean to sound like that, but something about Carina's remarks was getting to her.

"Are you two sleeping together?"

"What? NO! Our relationship is strictly business."

_The lady doth protest way too much,_ Carina thought. After all, the way Sarah's eyes had lit up the moment she saw Chuck told her that her friend was developing feelings for the good looking contractor. Not wanting to push any further, not yet at least, she decided to change the subject. "I should be getting ready, too. I have the day off, but I want to do some shopping and you seem busy. It was nice catching up on the family news though."

"It was," Sarah agreed. "And I was going to tell you more, but we fell asleep."

"You can tell me over coffee. But last night reminded me of the sleepovers we had back in the day."

"Those were fun times."

"Remember when I came to your place after I broke up with my first boyfriend?"

"How can I forget?" Sarah laughed. "My parents were at work and I was doing my homework when you came over with two cartons of Rocky Road and said you needed to rant and rave about how stupid boys were."

"While you were worried about your homework," Carina finished the recollection. "You were only twelve back then, but so serious. You needed, and still need, to let go once in a while."

"I'm having fun," Sarah said defensively and quite unconvincingly.

"Uh-huh," Carina shrugged skeptically. Her curiosity was definitely piqued and she was trying to figure out ways to get Sarah to talk. The subject, naturally, would be one Charles Carmichael. The talk, however, could wait. Carina was a patient woman and another plus was that she knew Sarah very well, therefore she was confident of her abilities to get the scoop on her best friend and this Carmichael guy.

-o-

Despite presenting a brave front and a businesslike approach to the latest assignment, Bryce was still really worried about Chuck. Rationally, he knew that Chuck could handle the Intersect upload, but it was also logical to assume the possibility of some impairment of this ability due to his recent health issues. In fact, he had insisted on the CIA having Chuck take the suitability test once again. If the results were positive, then his fears would be assuaged, not in their entirety, but he would have one less thing to worry about.

An opportunity to put into gear a plan he'd hatched while trying to sleep the previous night presented itself when Jill went grocery shopping. As soon as he was alone, Bryce went to his desk and retrieved a laptop computer. It was a beautiful piece of technology, the titanium casing decorated with flashing strips of light in various colors. To the uninitiated, it looked just like a customized high-end gaming laptop, which it indeed was, but with a twist. Now, he was going to make use of said twist for the first time.

Bryce had not told anyone, not even Jill, about it and how it had come into his possession. Everyone just assumed that he'd bought it and had it customized at one of the various specialized shops he frequented. It booted up in a remarkably short time after he pressed the power button. The desktop background was a screenshot from an award-winning game he had played with Chuck and Morgan as his team mates. As he did every time he saw it, he smiled, remembering that day, where the three of them had beat several other teams for the prize a magazine in LA had offered.

Since he had to be done before Jill returned, he quickly switched on a wireless mouse and double-clicked the Zork CBSU 2.0 icon. CBSU stood for 'Chuck-Bryce, Stanford University, referring to their own version of the old text-based game they had programmed using the TRS-80. When the program loaded, he didn't start a new game or replay a saved game, but instead went to the options and selected a text configuration function.

_Chuck got a job offer from the Company,_ he typed quickly. _He was hired and will be given a ticket to Omaha. I tried to get him another assignment, but the Boss thinks he'll do well there. Please advise._ He took a deep breath and hit the enter key. Hopefully, the recepient of his message would reply soon.

The answer was not long in coming: _This changes things a bit. Thanks for trying to keep him out of Nebraska. Report on the progress made as of today._

_Chuck is going to take the aptitude test again. If he scores high like the last time, they'll have him on the plane to Omaha pronto._

_How is he taking it?_

_He's eager to go. He thinks he can do a good job before they transfer him back,_ Bryce typed quickly.

_Typical Chuck,_ the unknown other party replied. _Has he been informed of the risks?_

_I made sure of it. He still wants to go ahead and work on the project. He thinks it can be made to work._

_How did this happen?_

Fortunately, Bryce had an answer to this question ready. He rapidly typed a brief but concise report on how Chuck had come to the CIA's attention. It was a bit cryptic, like everything else in the exchange, but he knew the other man would find the hidden meaning behind the innocuously worded message. He also made sure to inform him that the other members of the team were beyond reproach.

And he did. _Not your fault._

_Thanks. Is there anything I can do?_

_If he goes to Omaha, he'll need some additional tools to help him get the job done. I'll overnight them to you ASAP, with instructions on their use. _

_OK. Send them to the office._ The 'office' part was a code for a post office box Bryce had for emergencies._ I'll make sure he has them before he starts working on the project._

_Thanks kid. For everything. We'll keep in touch._

_I'll let you know if we need any more help._

_I know. Contact me any time you need to. And have fun even while working, both of you._

_Wilco. Thanks again. Until next time._

Bryce logged out of the special encrypted messaging program, exited the Zork game and turned off the computer. And not a minute too soon, either, because he heard the sound of Jill's key in the lock just after he put the computer back on his desk.

-o-

True to her word, Sarah came to pick up Chuck just after eleven, having first gotten a call informing her that everything was ready. For security reasons, they wouldn't be going to Langley. Graham was still looking for the leak that had blown the Brazil operation, among others. He hadn't told Sarah or anyone else about more than one op having been compromised, but he had assembled a team he trusted implicitly to find the leak and plug it – permanently.

They arrived at another run-of -the-mill looking office building. He unfolded his tall frame out of the Lotus and Sarah led him to an office on the sixth floor that was quite isolated from the others.

"Is this another CIA front?" Chuck asked the moment she closed the door behind them.

"Not really," she replied. "From what Casey said, it belongs to General Beckman's niece and she agreed to let her aunt borrow it while she's on vacation. Ms. Beckman is an interior designer normally."

"I like it," he said, taking in the tastefully decorated place. "If I ever start my own business, I think I'll hire her." He paused and looked at her. "What excuse do we have for being here?"

"We are supposed to be delivering and installing a new business phone system and IP switchboard."

"Are we?"

"See those boxes Casey brought?"

"Where is he, by the way?"

"I'm right here, Carmichael," Casey replied, coming into the lobby from the main office. "I had to do a security sweep first. And to answer your question, yes, we'll have a tech coming in later for the install. The General paid for the upgrade out of her own pocket, as a birthday gift to her niece, so we better not break anything."

"I can save you the trouble and do it myself," Chuck said confidently. He had indeed done several such installs himself.

"Good idea," Sarah mused. "He's more than qualified for it and it will draw less attention."

"Let me make a couple of calls," Casey said. "But Carmichael's idea is the way to go, I think."

"First, Chuck will have to take the test," Sarah reminded them.

"I've got everything he'll need here," Casey said. "Director Graham said that the package was sent by Professor Fleming."

"Okie-dokie. Test first, install later," Chuck agreed. "By the way, is Bryce coming?"

"He doesn't have to, although both he and Jill wanted to be here with you. He has a doctor's appointment instead."

"Carmichael, you might as well get started," Casey said, placing a laptop computer with a touch screen on a desk. "Professor Fleming said that the answers will be graded automatically every time you enter one and the results will be given at the end of the test, so make yourself comfortable. You have three hours to complete the test."

"Just like school," Chuck quipped smiling and took a seat. He flexed his fingers, cracked his knuckles and started the test program. In a corner of the screen a timer began counting down from three hours. He worked on the test, occasionally glancing at Sarah and Casey. They appeared to be relaxed, but Chuck knew they were alert and ready to respond to any situation. Satisfied that he was in good hands, he focused on giving the best answers he could. A lot was riding on the mission and he wanted to be able to help.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:** Here comes the prelude chapter to the action that is going to follow soon.

As always, thank you for your comments and encouragement.

* * *

Three hours on the dot later, the computer emitted a ping and the test program stopped running. This didn't matter to Chuck, because he'd finished answering all the questions and he was just randomly going through images to see if he would second-guess himself. He didn't.

"Time's up, Chuck," Sarah said cheerfully. "Shall we check your score?"

"Sure." He eyed her coffee cup enviously.

She noticed it. "Break room," she said, pointing him in the right direction.

"Got it. Thanks."

"Casey?" Sarah spoke after Chuck went to get his coffee.

"What is it, Walker?"

"You said the program gives the test results automatically."

*grunt* (Yes, that's what I said.)

"Where are they?"

"Let me enter the password." Sarah moved aside and he typed something in a popup window. Then the score card appeared. "Huh."

"What?"

"Looks like your boy there hasn't lost his edge. He scored 98%, same as back in Stanford."

"He'll be happy to learn that."

"We should be happy too," Casey deadpanned. "The mission can go forward."

"Sure. I'll call Bryce and let him know how it all shook out."

"Ms. Beckman sure knows where to get good coffee," Chuck said, rejoining Sarah and Casey while carrying a steaming mug.

"I've got news, Chuck. You passed," Sarah informed him.

"Never a doubt," he smiled at her. "Although, I still maintain that my answers are more lucky guesses than anything else."

"Don't sell yourself short, Chuck. You have an amazing brain." She tapped the side of his head for emphasis and smiled sweetly.

He was almost tempted to grab her and show her his appreciation for the compliments with a deep kiss, but flashed his patented charm smile at her instead.

"If you two are done making googly eyes at each other, we should install the new office equipment and head back. I'll let the General know about how Carmichael here did on the test. She and Graham will want to schedule the upload soon." He went to another room to make the call.

"Like I said, leave the install to me," Chuck reminded them.

"Need any help?" Sarah asked.

"Not really, but I wouldn't say no."

"Good. I got a little bored. Are we going to need any tools?"

"Just let me see what we have to work with here and I'll let you know."

-o-

Bryce was limping only slightly as he made his way from the doctor's to the post office. The swelling on his ankle had gone down, there were no complications and the pain was now more than bearable. The high top shoes he was wearing were tightly laced to provide the ankle with proper support. After making sure he wasn't being followed, he went straight to his PO box and unlocked it. From inside he retrieved a package, which he immediately shoved into his backpack. He would open it at home, read the instructions provided and make the necessary arrangements for Chuck's Intersect upload.

Since he was now more mobile, Jill had been able to go to work, which suited him just fine. When he reached his apartment, he sat down, propped his feet up on his desk and called Graham. The call was put through without delay.

"What is it, Bryce?" Graham asked brusquely.

"Sir, I was doing some thinking, about the you-know-what."

"If you have a good idea to share, please do, by all means."

"We can do it at my place, sir. It's perfect. Chuck doesn't need an excuse to come visit a friend."

"Good thinking," Graham said approvingly. "The less comings and goings, the less suspicion we are going to arouse. Oh, and General Beckman called. Your friend passed the test with flying colors."

"Never a doubt, sir," Bryce said, managing to interject some fake enthusiasm into his voice. "How are we going to do the upload? Any word from tech?"

"Right now they are between using the glasses and the good old fashioned method of having Chuck look at a computer screen."

"Nah, I have the perfect solution: a nice, brand new, 72 inch, ultra-high definition flat screen. Just email me the files and then Chuck and I will connect my computer to the TV. You know my connections are secure." He lovingly looked at his pride and joy as he spoke. His entertainment center was state of the art and Chuck had given him a lot of useful advice on what to buy.

"I'll get back to you once I've run it by tech," Graham promised and hung up.

Bryce replaced the phone on its dock and opened the package he'd received from his mysterious contact. Inside were two very similar looking devices and what looked like a PSP. He opened the instruction sheet for the first one and learned it was called the 'Key'. Its function was apparently to streamline the Intersect upload process so that the subject would not experience any adverse effects from the upload and subsequent use of the program. "Ingenious," Bryce muttered, realizing the importance of the deceptively small gadgets. The PSP had been modified to become an Intersect blocker. According to the instructions, it was to be used to block the function of the Intersect if the user experienced any problems with it. Then it could be removed at leisure. The notes sent with the gadgets mentioned an uninstall device which was currently being worked on for future use, and it was going to be better if the man, who'd signed his note as Orion, was to be believed. And Bryce believed him, all right.

-o-

"You did some great work back there, Chuck," Sarah said as she drove them to their lodgings.

"I told you, the test was easy."

"No, I'm not talking about the test. I am well aware of how skilled you are with electronics, but you made it all fun, even for me." It was true. Installing the new office equipment had been thoroughly enjoyable for both. Chuck had tapped into his reserves of good natured humor and it caused Sarah's rapier wit to come out and play. Even Casey had been compelled to join in the banter.

They'd settled into a comfortable silence when her phone beeped. "Can you check it for me please?"

"Sure." He picked it up from the center console and opened the new text message. "It's from your boss. He says that the upload will be scheduled as soon as the techs are finished encoding the files and have double and triple checked everything. Bryce also offered to have us do it over at his apartment. According to Graham he has the equipment necessary and it won't attract undue attention."

"How did he get the equipment?"

"I helped him pick out the components for his home entertainment center. It's all top of the line and it's going to make things easier for us."

"You mean easier for you."

"No, I meant it when I said us. We are a team now."

"Correct," she agreed. "I'm sorry. Because you are not a trained agent, it doesn't mean that you are not an integral part of the team. I'm just not used to working like this."

"You'll get used to it."

She regarded him thoughtfully. "You're right. I think I will."

-o-

Jill had clocked out early, surprising her boss who was used to her staying longer without even being asked, and drove home. She was eager to see how her boyfriend was doing. She had tried to call him, but had been unable to reach him. When she got to the apartment, she found out why. His phone was on the coffee table, while he was nowhere to be seen. Instead, she heard a sound from the study and went to investigate.

"Bryce, what are you doing in here?"

His head popped up from behind the computer casing on his desk. "Hey babe, you're home early."

"I asked you a question," she said pointedly.

"Oh, I'm just tinkering with the computer," he replied as nonchalantly as he could.

"Shouldn't you get Chuck to do it for you? He's way better at it."

"Maybe you should sit down, Jill."

"Why, what did you do?"

"Just sit down. I'll explain everything."

"Okay," Jill acquiesced and obliged him. "Start from the beginning."

"It all began back in Stanford, after I convinced Fleming to exclude Chuck from the CIA recruitment lists."

"Go on," she encouraged him, her interest piqued.

"Someone found out about it. I thought only Fleming and I knew what we'd done, but as it turned out, there is one more player in this."

"Who is it?"

"At this stage, I'll only tell you that he cares about Chuck and his codename is Orion. Anyway, as I said, he somehow learned how I had Chuck's back and he thanked me for it. Over time, he's helped me on many occasions."

"You've kept in touch."

"He works behind the scenes, he's basically a ghost. But he knows his stuff. When the Agency recruited Chuck for the Lichtenstein mission, I immediately contacted him when all my efforts to get Chuck out of it failed."

"What did he have to say?"

"He wasn't too thrilled about it, naturally, but he still offered to help. He sent me a couple of gadgets that will make the Intersect upload even smoother for Chuck. I'm installing one in my computer right now."

"In your computer?"

He smiled, obviously proud of himself. "I convinced Graham to do the upload here, under the pretext of Chuck visiting us as the friend he is."

"Good thinking. Tell me more of this gadget."

"It's called the Key. Orion said it streamlines the data upload, eliminating any fluctuations in the process and minimizing the chance of any adverse side effects from the operational use of the Intersect on its host."

"Interesting... Wait, you said a couple of gadgets. What's the other one?"

"It's also a Key, but intended for an alternate upload method. Orion has covered his bases well. No matter whether Chuck will have the upload by looking at a screen or by putting on a pair of special glasses, the Key will still be used to help things along."

"Since it's all about keeping Chuck safe, I'm with you all the way."

"Thank you Jill."

"You are welcome. And how was your trip to the doctor's?"

"He said my ankle is healing up satisfactorily. I still have to avoid overstressing it, but I'll be good as new in a few days."

-o-

Once again, Chuck found himself with lots of free time and nothing to do with it. Considering that Ellie could be at work, he texted her to let her know he was doing fine and inform her that the job was his. He also called Morgan and asked him to tell Big Mike that he wouldn't be returning to the Buy More. And then it was back to being bored. He hated to sit idle, but he knew it all now depended on when the tech teams were going to finish preparing the Intersect files he was going to upload. The concept still amazed him. He was a Nerd and found it extremely cool. A knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts.

"Sarah! Please tell me you've got news! I'm getting really bored here."

"Um, sorry Chuck, I don't have any news. But I brought lunch." She held up a couple of bags. "It's from a Wienerlicious nearby. I thought you'd like it."

"How can I thank you enough? Please, come in."

"Thank you." She smiled knowingly when she saw his personal phone on the coffee table. "Did you call your sister?"

"I texted her, actually, but I spoke with Morgan as well. They are all doing fine back home, although Morgan let slip that Ellie is still a little worried about me. We're going to have to figure out a way to be able to keep calling her while I'm pretending to be Lichtenstein."

"I'm sure we'll think of something."

"No doubt we will. I'll get these off of you. Make yourself comfortable and I'll set the table."

He was clearing the table after they'd finished their lunch, brushing off her offer to help ("You brought the food, Sarah. It's only fair that I do everything else," was his argument), when her phone chirped, announcing a new text message. She opened it and read for a moment.

"You don't have to be bored any more, Chuck. The upload files are ready," she announced.

"That was fast," he remarked.

"Something tells me that Graham had a team working on them the moment I walked out his office after telling him about you and he was breathing down their necks the whole time since."

"It makes sense," he said simply. "Did they say anything about the actual upload?"

"Let me make a couple of calls and I'll get back to you on that."

"I'll make myself scarce."

"Please stay. It concerns you as well, plus we are a team now."

"OK." He still carried the last of the dishes to the sink and then sat down on the couch as Sarah made the calls.

She looked at him after hanging up with Bryce. "I assume you have an idea about what's going to happen."

"I heard enough," he confirmed. "And during our last meeting Director Graham did mention how the upload works. Give me a few minutes to rinse the dishes and we'll be on our way."

"Take your time."

"Hey, I had an idea," he said while rinsing a plate under the tap.

"Tell me."

"Can I drive? I like your Lotus."

"No. First of all, it's not mine, it belongs to the CIA. The Porsche I was driving in LA is my own car and I have to think hard before letting even my sis-" Sarah caught herself just as she was about to spill the beans, but it was too late.

"You have a sister?"

She sighed. There was no way out of it. Besides, Chuck could just ask Bryce and Jill and then he was going to find out about Carina anyway. "Not by blood," she began explaining. "We grew up together and we were always close – like sisters." She noticed him regarding her with an unreadable expression. "What?"

"I understand you not liking to share personal information. Still, you know everything there is to know about me, and maybe I think it's kind of fair for me to know a couple of things about you. I'm not nosy, not by any stretch of the imagination, but it's nice to be reminded once in a while that agents like you, who put their lives on the line every day for the rest of us, are basically normal people with loved ones of their own who just happen to do a particular job."

"Thank you Chuck," she said honestly. "And now you're on your way to becoming one of us."

"On my way? Then you're still not letting me drive."

She laughed. "You got it. Let's go. And we won't be taking the car."

"Well, I tried," he said and followed her out the door.

-o-

"Already here?" Jill asked. "Sarah talked to Bryce not ten minutes ago."

"Well, we just happened to be in the neighborhood," Chuck shot back sarcastically. Behind Jill, he could see both Bryce and Casey. "I see we have a full house here."

"Grab a seat," Bryce invited. "I need to give you the pre-upload briefing."

"Sure." He sat down in one of the comfortable armchairs, noticing that Bryce had connected his computer to the TV. Considering he had an excellent flat screen in his office, he only did that when wanting to watch an online movie on the massive screen in the living room – usually while cuddling with Jill, as Chuck suspected.

"Here goes: How are you today?"

"What kind of question is that? I'm fine!"

"Let's elaborate. Are you well rested?"

"Yes."

"Have you engaged in strenuous activity of any kind during the day?"

"Hold on, let me think," Chuck said cheekily. "Does Fleming's test count?"

"No."

"OK. Does installing an office call center count?"

"Was there heavy lifting?"

"No."

"Then no, it doesn't count. Have you eaten anything since this morning?"

"Sarah brought lunch from the Wienerlicious."

"Did she now?" Bryce eyed them both smugly.

"It was just lunch," they said in unison.

"Fine, fine. Chuck, I want you to answer the next questions truthfully."

"Shoot."

"Did you experience any dizziness, nausea, lightheadedness, headaches, tachycardia, or any weakness during the day?"

"No, no, no, no, no and no," Chuck replied.

"Jill, Sarah, take his pulse and blood pressure," Bryce instructed the girls. "His temperature, too."

"Can't you do it yourself? You have the same first aid training I do," Jill shot back.

"I could, but give the condemned man the small pleasure of having two beautiful women play nurses on him." Prankster Bryce was alive and well. It earned him venomous looks from the girls and Chuck, plus an annoyed grunt from Casey.

Chuck kept glaring at Bryce as he picked up a digital thermometer from the medical kit laid open on the coffee table. Sarah motioned to him to roll up his sleeve and she attached the cuff of a digital blood pressure monitor around his arm. The small machine would also give them his heart rate. Bryce himself picked up a penlight and used it to check his friend's pupil dilation.

"Well?" Chuck asked.

"You're the picture of health, Carmichael," Casey informed him.

"Does that mean we can finally go ahead with the upload?"

"Not just yet, buddy." Bryce handed out pairs of special dark glasses. "Put them on, people. You don't want to upload the files together with Chuck here." For himself, he had a nice pair of Oakley X-Metal Juliets. After making sure everyone except Chuck had their eye protection on, he killed the lights. "Now, Chuck, just look at the screen."

"Ready," Chuck confirmed, sitting up and moving closer to the TV without even realizing he was doing it.

"Three, two, one, it's Showtime," Bryce said and activated the upload program.

WELCOME TO THE INTERSECT, appeared on the TV, followed by a single word: INITIALIZING. The TV screen then lit up with an impressive array of pictures, which were succeeding each other at a speed the eye could not seemingly follow.

"This is the upload?" Sarah whispered to Bryce. "It all seems so easy."

"Well, basically it is. The hard part is finding people who can handle the upload," he whispered back.

The slideshow stopped. The screen flickered and went blank. Chuck blinked, swayed on his feet and before anyone could catch him, he fell flat on his back in the middle of Bryce and Jill's plush carpet.

"I hate Bryce Larkin," he grumbled. The others took their protective eyewear off and switched the lights back on.

"You OK, Chuck?" Sarah asked anxiously.

"Seriously, guys, you could have told me this was going to happen." Still on the floor, he glared at his friend.

Bryce stood over him and offered him a hand. "We would if we had been told about it ourselves, buddy." Chuck took the proffered hand and Bryce hauled him up.

"The most important question is... did it work?" Casey added.

"How can we find out?" Jill wondered.

"Danke dass sie uns in Wienerlicious besucht haben," Sarah said, quoting one of the standard phrases used by employees of the hot dog franchise.

"Bitte, Frau Walker," Chuck replied instinctively. "Huh? Ich habe Deutsch gelernt! Ha-ha! Ich spreche Deutsch! Mein Name ist... Lichtenstein, Hans Lichtenstein." He paused and switched to English. "Is my accent right for the mark?"

"Graham said it was programmed into your upload," Bryce replied.

"Can you imagine how it was going to be if instead of German I had to learn Spanish?" Chuck asked Bryce.

"No, how?"

"It would be like... _¡Ah, mierda! Soy un narcotraficante colombiano! Un rico y poderoso narcotraficante colombiano!_"

"Why a Colombian drug lord?" Sarah asked, perplexed.

"It's from Bedazzled," Chuck and Bryce explained in unison.

"It's a movie," Jill elaborated further.

"Yeah, it was about an everyday guy who got an offer from the Devil, who was a beautiful woman by the way, to sell his soul in exchange for seven wishes. The first was to be rich, powerful and married to the woman he secretly loved. The Devil made him a Colombian drug lord," Chuck elaborated.

"One more selection for a movie night in the near future," Bryce added.

"Chuck and I did watch True Lies on Netflix while we were flying here," Sarah said. "I'd like to watch Bedazzled with you guys."

"Back to business," Casey said. "Tomorrow, we are going to make you look and sound exactly like Lichtenstein."

"And then I'll take his place. I'm aware of the plan, Casey."

"Good. You folks can take the rest of the day off. Carmichael will need a bit of rest after the upload, according to the project scientists."

"Until tomorrow then, Casey," Chuck said.

*grunt* (See you all tomorrow)

Bryce showed Casey out and rejoined his friends. "Any ideas as to what we can do to relax?"

"How about a movie?" Jill suggested.

"Bedazzled," Chuck and Bryce chorused, making Sarah laugh with their predictability.

* * *

**P.S.:** To the anonymous guest who pointed out some useful things, which, not being an American, I was not aware of: Thank you and duly noted. For this story, let's just assume that "punch" was their code for an alcoholic concoction going together with beer chasers, "spiked" meaning a lot more hard liquor added to the mix.

As for Southern Comfort, 70 proof would do it. The way I write Sarah, she prefers Jack Daniel's, but she enjoys other drinks every now and then.


End file.
